


L'appel Du Vide

by badlifechoices



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Mabari, Multi, Violence, everyone is a baby except cullen blackwall and vivienne, hinted dorian/iron bull, hinted josephine/leliana, hinted underage/rape but nothing graphic or really distinct, marian hawke/varric tethras, probably the angstiest kid fic you'll ever read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 113,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5285960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badlifechoices/pseuds/badlifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avisignis (Lavellan) Pentaghast is an assassin, well ex-assassin. Though most people know her pseudonym 'Cinnamon' under which she publishes her bestselling erotic novels. Now living all on her own in the Skyhold estate that is too big for one person alone she gets lonely and as it happens the clerics at the orphanage are desperately looking for someone to take in the new kid. 'He creeps the other kids out' they say. What starts with one child soon grows entirely out of proportion until she somehow ends up with EIGHT children to call her own. Things get even more complicated when a handsome stranger suddenly shows up at her door, claiming to be from child services to investigate the household. And then there's her past that slowly starts catching up with her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Part One**

 

 

_The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life._  
_\- Richard Bach_

 

 

Prologue

 

Her footsteps were loud, almost deafening in the darkness of the alley. She was running, her breath coming out in harsh pants, her beating heart echoing from the high walls of the buildings surrounding her. Her lungs were screaming, burning, the blood a roaring storm in her ears. Pain. Right hand clutching her shoulder, she tried to see through the haze of red that descended upon her. She wouldn’t make it. She knew it and yet she kept running, hoping, praying. She had lost all sense of orientation, didn’t know if the narrow alley would lead to safety or a dead end. Her steps faltered, her legs giving in beneath her and with a muffled cry her knees hit the pavement. It was over. They’d catch up with her, put a bullet in her head like they’d done it with her shoulder. _Please_ , she thought, _I’m too young to die._ Not that she didn’t deserve to die for what she’d done, not that she hadn’t expected this to happen at some point. But, for all that her life was worth, she didn’t want to die.

She wanted to live.

“Please…” A word, falling from dried lips, addressed to no one but the gods that she didn’t dare believe in. There was no salvation for her, no mercy for her crimes, all that she knew. Praying doesn’t help, they’d taught her, praying only makes things worse because it gives you _hope_. And hope was something people in her line of work were not supposed to have. She was supposed to accept death when it came for her, stare it straight in the eyes. But for that one had to be on their feet and not kneeling in the dirt of the city streets, begging for her life.

Desperately she tried to get up, tried to push herself away from the ground with her hands. But her body didn’t obey her commands. She had no strength left in her limbs, the excruciating pain that flowed over her in waves making her head spin. Sickness rising in her stomach, she turned her head and threw up. Scrambling once again to get to her feet, only to fall down again, she fought off the darkness threatening to take over her mind. So this was how it ended, curled up in a puddle of her own blood and vomit she’d die before she ever got to see anything but the city she grew up in.

There were voices, muttering, calling as if from far away. The cold of the night seeped through her skin, gradually flooding her body with a wonderful numbness. It was dark, darker than before. Even though her eyes were wide open, she couldn’t see. Faintly she could feel a hand touching her shoulder. There was another voice, right next to her ear and it sounded almost friendly, warm. So things really do look brighter when one died, she thought. All that she was missing was her life passing by in a blur, the flashbacks one always saw on the Telly. Well, there certainly was enough blood and grime to make up for that.

It didn’t matter.

Unconsciousness caught up with her before she tried to decipher the words spoken. She still didn’t accept it, didn’t want to stop fighting but she was exhausted, tired. I hope that death is less scary than life, she thought before she closed her eyes and let herself fall into the void. The last breath shuddering past her lips was drowned out by the sound of a car coming to a screeching halt dangerously close to the curled up woman. She died like she lived, swallowed whole by a city that never seemed to hold any warmth for those unfortunate souls.

 

Only that, even in Kirkwall – a city that defied the laws of nature at every corner, death was usually a more permanent thing.

 

* * *

 

The first thought that crossed her mind was that it was too warm. She hadn’t expected death to be so warm and soft. The second thought was that death surely wasn’t supposed to be this _loud_. A million voices seemed to be closing in on her, unfamiliar voices, all talking at once. She couldn’t catch any of the words spoken and they left her only more confused and disorientated. The darkness around her seemed to be getting lighter, as though it was fading away and she found that her body once again obeyed her commands. Left foot, right foot. She wriggled her toes experimentally, just to test if they were still there – of course they were, she was dead, there was no reason for her to be missing toes, right? – Next were her hands, carefully she clenched her fists only to be taken by surprise when a bolt of pain shot through her body. The pain originated in her shoulder. Images flashed through her mind, the gun trained at her, the sound of the trigger being pulled, the pain exploding in her left shoulder when the bullet pierced the skin, searching its way through sinews and muscle. Something was wrong with this picture. Something was very wrong indeed. Sure, she never paid much attention to the priestesses and their talk about Andraste and the Maker but she was convinced that people weren’t supposed to be experiencing pain and bodily harm when they’re dead. Not like this anyway. Which left only one single possible conclusion: She wasn’t dead.

A hand touched her face and she flinched. Her eyes flew open, wildly searching for whoever was touching her. A face was hovering above her, tanned skin framed by a halo of black hair and a smile that was about as kind as it was threatening. Slapping the hand away she tried to move away but the simple effort of sitting up made her dizzy, desperately holding onto the sides of the small cot to keep her balance.

“Calm down.” The strange woman said, her hands held out in front of her, obviously to suggest that she had no hostile intentions. “You’re safe. This is a private clinic, not a hospital. We don’t need a name or anything. You were lucky the bullet didn’t pierce your heart. The wound was bad but it should be mostly healed by now, give it a few weeks rest and it’ll be as good as new.” She spoke in short sentences, conveying only the information most relevant to the wounded woman and without asking any necessary questions. It felt good, it reassured her. The feeling of safety washed over her and though she was still wary, she didn’t flinch when the stranger touched her good shoulder and pressed her back into the bed. “Sleep now. I’ll watch over you.” Her gentle voice was oozing kindness and without knowing _why_ she felt that way, she thought that she could trust this woman. With a sigh she gave in, letting the exhaustion run its course and sunk into a deep, healing slumber.

The woman was called Hawke. She introduced herself when the one-who-was-supposed-to-be-dead woke for the second time. She had an infectious laughter and gentle hands. She cared for people and she never asked any questions. The dead one liked her. Hawke introduced her to another man, a healer, Anders. Anders was tall with blond hair and though he too smiled and explained that he had healed her shoulder, something felt off about him. Like he was more, like there was something else behind his haunted eyes, something darker. The dead one couldn’t explain what it was but she kept away from Anders as best as she could. The second man Hawke introduced her to, was a dwarf. Apart from his size he didn’t have very much in common with the others of his kind though. He didn’t have a beard like the ones she’d seen the Karta thugs or the merchants in Hightown wear. He was well dressed and very good with his words. It amazed her. Even more amazed was she by the fact that he too didn’t ask any questions, he just smiled at her and started telling a story about a Dalish he’d met in a bar once and who’d cleaned him out of all of his money because she was apparently a professional cheater at card games. The dwarf, Varric, was in love with Hawke. He didn’t seem to realise it or maybe he did but didn’t act on it. To someone who was trained in reading people it was obvious and it made the dead one wonder why these people wouldn’t take this chance for happiness. She’d never fallen in love herself but she’d been told that the feeling was something precious and invaluable.

There were others, women and men who came and went. Some of them were patients, some apparently friends of Hawke who stayed to chat with her. It was a strange group of people and yet, even though it had only been two days since she woke up, she felt for the first time in many years that she could sleep without the comfort of a gun under her pillow. She didn’t dare to ask about her weapons and Hawke didn’t mention them so the dead one assumed that they were gone for good. She’d have to see the Keeper about new ones. The Keeper wouldn’t be happy about it. The dead one didn’t want to think about it. About going back and admitting that she failed her mission, that she’d lost her weapons and almost her life. The Keeper would be disappointed, would punish her for her failure. The dead one dreaded the day when Hawke would tell her that she was well enough to leave but at the same time the waiting made her anxious. She wasn’t used to spending so much time in bed, to being tied down, useless. She hated it.

By the fourth day the pain in her shoulder had mostly subsided, only flaring up when she moved her arm too much. That was when she knew that she had to leave. She was up on her feet by sunrise, arranging the worn out pillow and the thin blanket because it would be impolite to leave a mess when these people took care of her like this. She’d pay them back for it, she promised herself. When she had asked Hawke about the cost of her staying here, the woman had only shaken her head and insisted that there was no debt to be paid. It sounded unbelievable, too good to be true. People always wanted something in return for a favour, there was no such thing as selflessness. Not in this kind of place. The dead one knew how it went, she’d grown up among people who only looked at her twice when she had something to offer. Even in the orphanage, where the Sisters and Brothers who tended to the children were supposed to be saints, everyone expected some kind of payment.

The dead one had gotten used to it. She’d arranged herself with the way these people lived, had waited for her opportunity and when the Keeper had come to offer her a life away from the Alienage if she was willing to work and learn, she’d accepted without a second thought. She’d never regretted it, minding neither the little room she had to share with two of her sisters nor the work she had been trained to do. When she’d been handed her first gun, it had felt as though the weapon was calling out to her, singing under her fingers. Following orders had come as easily to her as the killing had. It had been so easy in the beginning, pulling the trigger and watching the mark collapse. The others had told her not to look into their eyes when they died but the dead one hadn’t listened. She’d seen confusion, surprise, even anger flash up in the eyes of those who had only seconds left to live and never once had she doubted that it was right what she did.

That was years ago. She was still young, she knew, but in those little moments of weakness when she was alone with herself and her thoughts, she felt weary. More and more she’d started to wonder what those people had done to deserve a death that crept through their windows at night. There was no reason, she figured, not always at least. In the end it was all about money. The clients would talk to the Keeper and if they offered enough money one of them would be assigned to kill someone, no one ever asked _why_.

But it was her life and as much as she started to resent it, she knew there was no escaping it. She’d never sworn an oath or anything of the kind like the Templars did. But she had heard the song of the weapon in his hands and she had felt the rush of adrenaline and _power_ as someone else’s’ blood stained her hands. And even if she managed to break free from the hold this addiction had on her mind, the Keeper would never let her leave the clan. She had no money of her own, no ties to people who were influential enough to help her hide her tracks. If she attempted to get away from this life she’d be found and dragged back. The dead one had seen what they did with traitors, had watched the Keeper herself slit the throat of a young girl who had tried to leave because she’d fallen in love with a Templar. And, more importantly though it sounded ridiculous, this life was all she knew. How would she handle being a normal person when she knew how to break someone’s neck with her bare hands? How could she attempt to fit into a society when she had seen its darkest sides? Even more than the tattoos on her face, the knowledge that she could bring death to those undeserving marked her as a slave.

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts and when she looked up, she saw that Hawke was approaching her. The smile was still on her face but she looked serious. She wants something, the dead one thought immediately, now is the time when she talks about the _prize_.

“You’re up early. How’s the shoulder?” Hawke’s voice was light and it betrayed the expression on her face.

The dead one bowed her head in a gesture of gratefulness. “It is much better, thank you. I feel like I can’t bother you any longer, so I’ll be taking my leave. Really… thank you for everything.”

There was something sad in the blue eyes that studied her face and the dead one lowered her gaze, unable to stand the scrutiny. “You haven’t told me your name.” There was nothing accusing in her words, just a statement, a request maybe.

She hesitated. If she told Hawke her name, then she would know everything. The dead one already suspected that Hawke had an idea about her profession and everything though she’d never said anything. Still, strangely enough she didn’t want these people to think badly of her. She didn’t want to be associated with the work she did and it confused her. They would hopefully never see her again, why would she care about their opinion? “Lavellan.” She said quietly. “Avisignis Lavellan.” Unable to look her in the eye and see the realisation, Avisignis stared at the worn out boots on her feet. Everyone knew the name Lavellan, the clan that resided in darkness and moved through shadows to bring death and misery. It was as much a business title as it was a name that all those who were taken in by the Keeper had the privilege of carrying.

When the other woman replied however, it took her entirely by surprise. “You don’t have to go back.”

Avisignis’ head snapped up. “Excuse me?” It sounded harsher than it was supposed to and she immediately added: “What do you mean?”

Hawke shrugged and suddenly looked like she was at a loss for words. It was strange how this strong woman with her almost intimidating stature could look so uncertain, so out of place. “You almost died out there, Anders said he only barely managed to bring you back. It’s kinda like a second chance and I think you should take it. If you don’t want to go back to doing what you used to do, don’t do it. I mean, it’s your choice of course, if you do want to go back I’ll give you back your weapons and you can be on your way.”

The words were delivered with such conviction, like Hawke truly believed that it would be that easy to ‘get out’ of this kind of life. Avisignis decided that these words were dangerous because they made her _hope._ The Dalish shook her head. “You say it like I can just leave. They’ll find me and then not even Anders can help me.” The truth tasted bitter on her tongue. She pushed the thought aside, tried to lock out all of the doubts because if she started doubting she’d start hesitating.

But instead of looking disappointed, Hawke seemed only more determined. The smile was back, widening into a full grown grin and her eyes were sparkling with what looked like mischief. “Oh, you don’t worry about that. I did a bunch of ‘impossible’ things before, ask Varric, he can tell you about the dragon or the pirate captain or… well, you really shouldn’t believe anything he says, most of the time he makes things up or exaggerates beyond reason. Anyway, I don’t think a bunch of deadly assassin can be worse than an actual dragon.” Avisignis highly doubted that anything could be worse than provoking the Keeper of the Lavellan clan but she kept quiet about her thoughts. She’d never seen a real dragon anyway, only the large skulls that were exhibited in the city museum. When Hawke reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, it took all of her concentration to not instinctively back away. “You’re lucky, I know just the right people to help you.”

 

When Hawke said ‘I know people’ Avisignis never imagined that she would end up in one of the grandest estates the Hightown of Kirkwall had to offer. The lavish foyer was enough to take her breath away and she was sure she looked like an ugly stain someone had left on a priceless carpet. Fumbling with her worn out coat, she tried her best not to look entirely like a stray cat someone had just pulled out of a dumpster. When Hawke was busy talking to one of the servants, she tried to fix the mess that was her hair, sneaking glances at her reflection in one of the big windows. It was still a mess, strands of unwashed brown hair sticking out of the bun she’d tied it into. It was hopeless. Anxiety bubbling in her chest like she’d only known it as a child when she had first been introduced to the Keeper, she followed Hawke, casting her eyes down. The floor was white marble and as far as she could see there wasn’t a single grain of dust or dirt in sight. When she turned around she was mortified to see that her boots were leaving muddy footprints all over the place. So much for making a good first impression.

The estate belonged to the Pentaghast family, Hawke had explained it on the way there. With the huge family crest hanging over the stairs it was quite obvious too. Everyone in Kirkwall knew the name Pentaghast, probably everyone in Thedas too. It was an old family, known for spawning warriors and dragon slayers, people the nation depended on in situations of dire need.

Compared to their name, the Pentaghasts themselves were downright disappointing. A couple, both maybe around thirty, with kind faces and warm hands. They both had the distinct air that only a soldier exudes and yet neither of them was as scary or intimidating as Hawke could sometimes be. Mrs. Pentaghast had the most beautiful brown eyes, Avisignis had ever seen. She took one look at the assassin and pulled her into another room. Her grip on Avisignis’ hand was strong and the ease with which she gave orders made it entirely impossible to object. In the end she was bathed and dressed and when they walked back to the office, she felt maybe a little less out of place. “Now, you should not look so glum, this is not your execution you’re attending.” The older woman scolded her and Avisignis hurried to straighten her back. When she looked up she found those brown eyes smiling down on her and probably for the first time in her life she felt the intense desire to _hug_ someone. She wondered how it would be to grow up in a place like this with someone like Mrs. Pentaghast as her loving mother who would chase all her nightmares away. She pushed the thought aside. Wondering about ‘what if’s never lead to anything.

She’d asked Hawke about the ‘why’. Why she was going go such lengths to help her. Hawke hadn’t looked her in the eyes when she’d answered, her usually cheerful features suddenly filled with sadness and nostalgia. “You remind me of someone I once knew. A long time ago.” She hadn’t said anything else, not revealing who it was she’d held so dearly that she’d jump in to aid a mere lookalike.

Nervously rubbing her hands over her new pair of trousers, she stepped through the big mahogany door into the office and found Mr. Pentaghast and Hawke leant over the table, contemplating what looked like a map spread out on the desk. When they heard the door they both looked up and from the way Hawke flashed her a thumbs up, her appearance must’ve been a lot better than before Mrs. Pentaghast tended to her. The lady motioned for her to sit down and Avisignis did, her gaze anxiously jumping back and forth between the other people in the room. She had no idea what to say, no idea how she was supposed to ask these people to risk their own lives by helping her escape from hers. Luckily, she didn’t have to. A born leader, Hawke immediately picked up where they left off at the clinic, quickly explaining the situation at hand – as much as she knew – and then going on about what she had in mind.

Avisignis could do nothing but listen, amazed once again how much these people would do for someone they didn’t even know. “I would let her stay at the Hawke mansion but it’s too close. I’m thinking we should get her out of Kirkwall, to the countryside.” Mr. Pentaghast agreed with Hawke’s suggestion and they went on for several minutes how to get the young woman out of the city and to someplace where she could start anew. Hawke had friends, so she said, who could help with the identification. Anders would declare her dead, officially. The thought made her squeamish. Even though it was only on paper, she’d just escaped death, she didn’t think she’d have to do it again so soon.

“She needs another name. A story.” Hawke turned her head and suddenly Avisignis felt those piercing blue eyes on her again. She wouldn’t be a Lavellan anymore. Somehow the thought of losing the name wasn’t as horrible as she’d expected.

It was Mrs. Pentaghast who chimed in at that, her hand coming to rest on the assassin’s forearm. “She could be a Pentaghast.” She glanced at her husband who hesitated before he finally nodded. “A distant relative or something, make her a half-Dalish and people will believe it.” She seemed to be considering something before she spoke up again. “There is the old mansion. My family used to spend their summers there when I was younger but no one uses it nowadays. It would be a shame to just let it rot.”

A mansion? Becoming a Pentaghast? This was too much. Entirely too much. Avisignis wasn’t sure if she wanted to fall to her knees and kiss their shoes or if she wanted to curse these rich people who could just throw their money about like this. Before she could do either though, everyone else was suddenly agreeing with the plan. Only seconds later all eyes were on her, obviously expecting her to say something.

All of a sudden her mouth was as dry as sand and she couldn’t get anything but a croaked ‘thank you’ out. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe she really died and this was what the Maker’s home looked like. Or it was all just a dream and she’d wake up any minute with one of her sisters shaking her awake. “I- I promise I will pay you back when I can.”

She was shushed. Hawke and Mrs. Pentaghast disappeared and Mr. Pentaghast beckoned her closer before he started explaining things, drawing up contracts and a whole bunch of papers she had to sign. Her head was swimming with too many thoughts, too many unanswered questions. Avisignis was still convinced this was all a really wonderful dream but if it was, then she’d be happy to never wake up again. It is strange, she thought as she was handed something that looked terribly official and that bore the Pentaghast seal next to her new name, only five days ago I died and now I am the owner of an actual house. It would’ve made for an incredibly crazy story, though probably not as crazy as the ones Varric always told about Hawke’s adventures.

Glancing down at the papers in her hands, she read the name of her new home for the first time.

 

_Skyhold._


	2. Chapter One aka Cole

 

Chapter One

 

Val Royeaux was nothing like Kirkwall. Where the City of Chains was famous for its ugliness, no stranger to war and pestilence and overrun with criminals that roamed the streets at night and in the lesser expensive quarters throughout the day, Val Royeaux was the exact opposite. Apart from the Docks the city seemed strangely safe even by night, everything was clean and light and the pompous buildings were about as pretty as they were intimidating. And yet Avisignis couldn’t say whether she liked it any better than Kirkwall. Orlais was no place for elves, she’d known that even before she crossed the border. She’d only been to this place a few times to see her publisher and she’d hoped that she’d be able to keep avoiding it in the future. Whenever she walked the wide streets, hurrying along to get to her appointments in time, she felt as though every pair of eyes was fixed on her stature. Even with the masks she was sure to see disgust on their features, mild curiosity or outright anger.

Sure, were she still the young street urchin with tattered clothes, bare feet and dirt stained skin, she would’ve understood why people stared. But she wasn’t. It had been six years since Hawke and the Pentaghasts had picked her off the streets, had set her up with a mansion that she was only supposed to govern but that had at some point miraculously been declared _her_ property. Not that she didn’t still feel like the odd one out in this so called society of wealthy people but at least she tried to fit in, wearing the most conventional clothes and braids. And then there was the name. The only thing she couldn’t change about herself was the heritage. She was an elf and she would always stay one, the ears and the markings on her pale face were a dead giveaway. And not even her desire to escape the glaring eyes could force her to don one of those masks.

So she tried to ignore it, didn’t turn her head even once as she quickly strode down the street and towards one of the palaces. She was only here to sign another contract. Once that was done she’d be able to return to her comfortable home with her warm fireplace and the strangely haunting loneliness that the mansion seemed to exhale. She’d gotten used to it, used to this borrowed life and to the debts she still owed those who took her in, though she tried her best to pay them back little by little. Hawke hadn’t wanted to hear anything about it, constantly refusing to accept her payments until Avisignis had had the brilliant idea to contact Varric again. Much to her surprise the dwarf had actually agreed to more or less sneak the money into Hawke’s bank account. More than Hawke though, she wanted to pay back the Pentaghasts who had not only selflessly given away their property but also their name. She knew that there was no way she’d ever be able to repay them in kind but Mrs. Pentaghast assured her that the money and the exclusively signed publisher editions she sent over every other month were more than enough. Their little daughter was growing up rapidly. Cassandra was a lovely and quite lively girl. The last time Avisignis had seen her was when she’d been just three, chewing on her mother’s hair as though it was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted. She was always smiling on the pictures Avisignis had been sent and if it made her feel a tiny bit envious of the couple’s fortune, she didn’t lose a word about it.

The last years had proven stressful and exhausting. She’d been so busy building up a new life, taking care of the mansion’s restoration and the demands of her publisher that grew more ridiculous with every finished draft she sent in that she had barely had the time to worry about her own social life. On top of that she suddenly had so much freedom, so many new things to discover that she’d never been able to do before that she never paid any mind to the desires she’d forgotten about long ago. Now that she had finally found some stability in her life and her income – on top of that she had no more holes in her roof or doors that would suddenly fall off the hinges – thing were different. The thought of a family had crossed her mind once or twice. A real family where everyone looked out for the others. Sure, she’d fooled around a bit, with some her sisters in the Lavellan clan and after she’d gained her independence but it had never been anything serious. Definitely not serious enough to consider starting a family with someone, not that she was entirely sure she’d be able to handle the responsibility anyway. She’d probably make a horrible mother, with the nightmares waking her up in the middle of the night, the cold sweat that gathered on her forehead whenever the noises the house made at night seemed just the tiniest bit off.

She shook her head, chasing away the thought and instead flashed the servant who opened the heavy palace doors for her a little smile. The man didn’t even look at her, just turned his head and pulled the doors shut again as soon as she had entered. Avisignis swallowed the curse that lingered on her tongue for a moment, figuring that it wasn’t worth the risk of offending someone just to satisfy her childish temper. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and walked over to the receptionist’s desk. At least the woman behind the counter spared her a second glance when she stated that she had an appointment.

“Avisignis Pentaghast?” The woman asked. Avisignis nodded. Only five minutes later she was ushered into one of the large offices and told to sit in front of the desk to wait for the owner of the publishing house. Messere de Fer was one of the most elegant and beautiful women Avisignis had ever encountered but she was also terribly strict when it came to what exactly got published under her seal. It was said that she only accepted writers with a lot of potential because she liked to shape the future of the literary world. Avisignis supposed that it had taken more than just a little convincing on Mrs. Pentaghast’s side to get the publisher to even look at her writing. And then it had taken about five months until she was satisfied enough with Avisignis’ first novel to hand it to her lector. Ever since then Messere de Fer haunted her with requests, ‘well-meant suggestions’ and deadlines that left her working overtime more often than not. “Sweetheart, you’re an aspiring author, there’s no such thing as too much work.” The mage had told her with a sugary smile and the threat in her words had been obvious.

Avisignis had just placed her bag on the chair to her left, when the door was pushed open and a familiar voice greeted her. “Aah, Cinnamon my dear, I almost thought you wouldn’t make it, you always seem so busy.” Avisignis hurried to stand up and shake the offered hand, trying not to show her distaste at being called by her pseudonym instead of her actual name.

She tried her best to return the smile. “Of course. I am glad too, Messere.” Mostly because Madame de Fer would’ve probably fired her instantly had she dared to even be late for their meeting. The woman was not only incredibly powerful, she was also entirely ruthless. “You wanted me to sign something?”

“Now, now. I told you to call me Vivienne, didn’t I? But if you insist, let’s talk business. You Dalish are always like that, right down to business, I like that about you.” Her tone suggested that she did anything but like Avisignis but once again, it wasn’t worth the risk to lose her job so she bit her tongue and nodded instead. Vivienne reached under into her desk drawer and pulled out a stack of paper, something Avisignis immediately recognised as her latest draft. “I was quite satisfied with your work this time, Cinnamon. Just a few kinks here and there you should smooth out and-“ She leaned forward in an entirely too familiar gesture. “You should make it a bit juicier, if you know what I mean. The readers will love it.”

Avisignis wanted to remark that it was an _erotic_ novel and there was hardly a way to make it even juicier than it already was but the look on Vivienne’s face shut her up before she could get out a single word. “I’ll work it out.” She muttered through clenched teeth, reaching for the stack of paper only to have a pen placed in her hand.

Vivienne was already busy talking about the new contract, explaining to her what had changed ‘nothing much, just this paragraph her and that one and the one with the fan mail’. Avisignis mostly just watched her graceful hands flutter over the paper, drawing intricate symbols in the air. She truly had beautiful hands. Only the distinct sound of the other woman clearing her throat broke her from her trance and she hurried to sign the contract. The paper was whisked away from under her hands before the ink had any time to dry. She barely got the time to thank Vivienne and stuff the manuscript into her bag before the woman kissed her cheek and rushed out of the room again, without doubt to torment some other poor soul who deemed themselves a writer.

With the heavy bag over her shoulder, she took her time on the way back. As it was she still hadn’t gotten around to buy a car for herself and there were still several hours left until she’d have to be at the station in order to catch her train back to the Dales. With nothing much to do but some grocery shopping and the desire to take a look at the bookstores, she settled on taking a stroll around the city. As easy as it was to get lost in Kirkwall, Val Royeaux offered its inhabitants and the hordes of tourists that flooded the city every day, the actual comfort of sign posts. For a while she just followed the stream of people, business people on their way home from work and the occasional group of schoolchildren chattering noisily about whatever kind of game was in at the moment. Every now and then she stopped in front of one of the shops to peer in through the showcase. Everything in Val Royeaux was expensive and even though she could technically afford most things, she had yet to get rid of the overwhelming anxiety that came with the actual spending of money.

Avisignis was already halfway across the Summer Bazaar, her thoughts slowly circling back to Vivienne’s recommendations, when something caught her attention. Someone was yelling, furiously and loud enough to be heard clearly over the noise of the crowd. Curiously she ducked into one of the side streets and turned her head to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was going on. The yelling got louder, two women in priestess robes were chasing someone she couldn’t see through the people crowding the market place. Curse her small size. Before she could even try to find something to stand on – call it a natural instinct, when something interesting was happening, she _had_ to see it – someone bumped into her. It knocked the breath out of her lungs. A muffled “ouch!” reached her ears and only her trained instincts allowed her to wrap her arms around the attacker to keep them from falling. She peered down at the kid who barely reached her navel and who had in turn wrapped their little arms around her. Not that she could see much of the kid’s face or anything for that sake because they were wearing a peculiarly ugly and positively huge hat that hid basically everything.

“Hey there.” She chuckled, not entirely sure if she wanted to tell the kid to let go. Even through the thick sweatshirt the kid was wearing, she’d felt that they were too thin. It immediately reminded her of her time at the orphanage, of the constant hunger gnawing at her insides. She pushed the thought aside and focused her attention to the little one who was still clinging to her as though they were drowning and she was a life raft. “Where are your parents?”

It was the wrong question to ask. She knew it the second the kid’s body stiffened and suddenly a pair of light blue eyes was peering up at her. “Gone.” The kid whispered. “Alone. Cold. No light. It’s so dark. Hungry. So very hungry. Why do they hate me? Why do they hurt me?” Avisignis felt a shiver run down her spine. With the way the child was looking into her eyes as though they were looking into her very soul, for a second she wasn’t sure if it was his story or hers he was telling.

“Oh.” Was all she could manage, the words, the ‘I’m sorry’ died on her tongue before it could fall from her lips.

They were interrupted before she could say anything else entirely thoughtless and insensitive. “Cole! There you are!” It was the same voice that she’d heard before and only seconds later the two women appeared in the before them. They were both breathing heavily, probably from chasing the boy around the market place, their faces were a mixture of concern and badly hidden anger. One of them stepped forward to pry the kid away from Avisignis but he only held on more tightly, once again burying his face in her stomach. The woman huffed out a breath of annoyance. “I’m very sorry that he’s bothering you, Messere.”

Avisignis shook her head. “It’s alright.”

The woman eyed her for a moment, obviously taking in her ears and the tattoos before she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Do you know him?”

For some reason she found herself hesitating. Something at the back of her head told her to lie, a plea that she couldn’t identify as one of her own thoughts. She glanced down at the boy, wondering for a second if it was his doing, before she looked up again. “Yes. Cole and I- I’ve met him before.”

The woman was still suspicious, it was written all over her face but with the way the boy was clinging to the elf it sure didn’t look like she was just a stranger. So she gave in, her shoulder slumping and her lips curling into an exhausted smile. “Oh, well. So it must be you he was talking about. He’s always going on about someone he needs to find and then he runs away. This is the fourth time he’s slipped out, maker knows how he’s doing it. I didn’t know he had anyone apart from his parents and well…” She hesitated for a moment but when Avisignis didn’t interrupt her, she went on, obviously glad to have someone who didn’t mind her complaining. “It’s terrible. They locked him up in the basement and left him to starve. What some people do to their children. He was lucky the neighbours were wondering. Called the guard and they got him out.”

So it was his story. The cold, the darkness and the hunger were engraved in his soul, scarring him. Avisignis wondered if it was really the best thing to talk about it so openly, especially if Cole was there with them but the boy didn’t seem to mind. “You’re from the orphanage?” She asked.

The woman nodded. “Yes, Messere, it’s a bit of a walk from here but it’s not as bad as it could be. A lot of the people here donate regularly. Most of the kids are quite happy but Cole…” She stopped for a second to look down at the one in question and sigh. “He’s not getting along with anyone. The other kids say that he’s scary. He doesn’t play with them, hardly says a word too and when he talks he starts reading their thoughts and it creeps them out. A few of the Sisters refuse to go anywhere near him because they’re convinced he’s a spirit.” Avisignis raises a questioning eyebrow at that and the woman just shrugs. “I know, it’s ridiculous. But you see, it’s not easy.”

Cole untangled himself from her at that, his face still entirely hidden by the big hat. The Sister seemed to see it as a cue to leave. “Now, we shouldn’t be bothering you any longer. Come on, Cole, say goodbye to the Lady.”

The boy shook his head. “I won’t go. Not back there.” His voice was small, uncertain suddenly and as though he was asking for her permission, he held out one of his small hands towards Avisignis. Out of pure instinct, she took it. His hand was cold, clammy and she could feel a wordless gratefulness radiating off the boy.

The Sister frowned. “Well you have to go back. You can’t just stay with the Lady even if she’s nice, she has other things to do.” The last part of her sentence sounded more like a question and when she looked up at Avisignis, the same question was obvious on her face.

Avisignis had no idea what caused her to say these words. Maybe it really was Cole, maybe it was her loneliness that brought her to the conclusion or the same instinct that had her unwilling to let go of the boy’s hand. Or maybe it was all of it and a dash of courage that she never knew she had. “He can stay with me. I have a big house, big enough for the two of us. I can fill out all the papers, you can confirm with the bank that I have the funds to support him…” Cole’s grip around her hand tightened for a moment. The Sister was dumbfounded for a moment, staring for a moment before she glanced at her colleague for confirmation. The other woman looked equally baffled but hesitantly nodded in agreement.

The walk to the orphanage was quiet and yet Avisignis couldn’t shake the feeling of happiness that bubbled up in her chest when Cole refused to let go of her hand. In front of them she could hear the Sisters whispering but she didn’t pay any mind to it. The building was really quite nice, spacious and warm, so different from the one in the Alienage of Kirkwall. Probably because the wealthy inhabitants think that if they fund the orphanage, it’ll keep the kids off the streets. Avisignis doubted that any of them really cared about the wellbeing of the children. Not in a society where people treated someone like dirt, simply because they had pointy ears. Well, there were exceptions like the Pentaghasts, or at least the branch of the family that she knew but they were rare and people like Hawke because they knew how it felt to live on the streets and to have to work their way up.

The paperwork was less exhausting than she expected and once they were finished there was still enough time left to get to the station before the train left. Before Avisignis could say anything, Cole disappeared and returned only a few minutes later with a little suitcase and his backpack, when she offered to carry both for him, he shook his head again. None of the kids came to see him off, only a few of the Sisters bid him farewell. Avisignis remembered how much she had hated the kids at her orphanage who’d been adopted. Why them and not me, she’d always thought. Later she’d felt badly for not wishing them happiness but the question why they were better and more loveable than her had always gnawed at her mind.

Cole didn’t thank her, he didn’t speak at all until they were on the train and even then he was staring out of the window. There was truly something strange about him but she couldn’t understand why anyone would hate or even fear him for it. He was like her; he’d escaped from a past that left its mark on him, a permanent brand that someone had burnt into his very being. They both needed a family. She’d look out for him, she swore herself in this moment, resting her head against the window and letting the calming noise of the train wash over her.

“Your shoulder hurts.” Cole suddenly said, peering up from underneath his head for a second before he averted his eyes again. It wasn’t a question. It was hard to believe he was really a five year old from the way he talked, the way he understood people just from looking at them.

“Sometimes it does.” Avisignis admitted, unconsciously massaging her left arm. She couldn’t lie to him, couldn’t and wouldn’t. Because lies always just ruined everything. “Someone hurt me when I was younger. It healed well but sometimes it aches.” Anders had, quite literally, worked magic with the bullet wound and it only acted up when it was cold outside. It frustrated her that, even though it hadn’t left a scar unlike the other dozens that marred her body, she couldn’t escape the reminder of that day. Maybe it was for the better though, maybe it was so that she kept in mind that she’d gotten a second chance today and that she should make the best out of it.

Avisignis smiled when she saw that Cole had fallen asleep. He was curled up on the seat, his thin limbs tucked close to his torso. Shrugging out of her coat, Avisignis used it as a makeshift blanket to cover him and then returned to her own seat. Pulling out her mobile she wrote a short text to Hawke, before she reached for the manuscript and started to go through the numerus annotations Vivienne had made to it.

Glancing at the child that she could now call her own, she somehow felt like this was just the beginning of something greater. The beginning of a real story.

 


	3. Chapter Two aka Dorian

Chapter Two

 

Several weeks passed and though it was a bit strange at first to no longer be living alone, she quickly got used to it. Looking out for Cole wasn’t really a lot of work, less work than she’d been prepared for actually. She’d helped with the younger sisters at the Lavellan clan and the Alienage orphanage, mostly because the adults there were always happy to push the work on the older children, so she knew her way around the young ones. And if she was awkward at times, Cole always reassured her, not with words but with a little touch to her arm and her hand whenever she faltered. He was a good kid, through and through, concerned for everything and everyone. She often watched him when he was playing outside, talking to the birds and the mice. He’d been entirely entranced by the kittens the neighbours had brought over to show one day. Holding the little fur balls in his hands he’s practically glowed and Avisignis was sure that never before she’d felt this gentle warmth in her chest that came from seeing him happy like this.

He loved the mansion too. He didn’t tell her but it was obvious from the way he explored every nook and cranny. She had the room next to hers furnished, nothing much because she wanted to let him choose what his room would look like when he was ready. He’d never once used the bed she’d bought for him, instead she always found curled up in hers when she went to bed late at night. She didn’t tell him to stop, not when she knew that he needed the warmth. Avisignis wanted him to be comfortable, wanted to show him that he could trust her and that he’d never again have to go through something as horrible as the things his parents did to him. And he was warm, curled up against her, she found that most nights the nightmares she dreaded so much wouldn’t come. She’d even bought a little nightlight for him because the darkness still scared him.

The first time he’d found the basement, he’d hid in her bedroom for three hours, refusing to come out or look at her when she’d asked him what was wrong. So she’d set up camp next to him on the bedroom floor. A hot cocoa for the both of them and her script on her knees she’d just scribbled away until he’s shifted, cuddling up to her and when he finally admitted, in his usual broken up sentences, that he was scared of the basement, she’d hugged him and told him that he’d never have to go down to the basement again. She kept her promise.

Cole liked to watch her work and when she’d realised that he had always been sitting on the cold floor when she’d been at her desk in the office, she’d moved her workplace to the kitchen. Like this they sat at the table, clouded in comfortable silence that was only interrupted by her typing and the soft music from the speakers of her laptop.

It was one of those evenings, only an hour left to Cole’s bedtime – Avisignis wasn’t exactly sure what bedtime meant for a five year old but she figured seven couldn’t be wrong, since that was the time when Cole usually started to become tired anyway. He was off somewhere, probably in the attic where he’d made his camp with the boxes of picture books the Pentaghast’s had left behind. Avisignis was working, trying to work through the haze of words that didn’t sound quite right. She’d just figured out how to make her protagonist seem a bit livelier and less like the clichéd characters one usually found in this kind of novels, when her flying fingers were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. She froze for a second, trying to fight off the instinct to jump to her feet and go for the kitchen knives. She was safe, she reminded herself. No one knew that she was here, no one knew who she was. Her gaze flickered towards the clock hanging over the kitchen counter. It was still early enough for it to be the neighbours or someone who got lost on the road and needed directions. Apart from the postwoman those were about the only people who ever stopped by the mansion, mostly because it was a bit off the road.

“Cole?” She asked and pushed down the rising anxiety when she didn’t receive a reply. He was in the attic, surely. Making her way down the long corridor to the door, she could see the outline of a tall person through the glass. She’d seriously considered having the doors changed because the simple prospect of having glass where there should be solid wood made her uncomfortable. But she’d seen it as a way to let go of past instincts and fears. Wrapping the warm bathrobe she’d thrown over her shoulders earlier, tighter around herself, she opened the door.

“I’m very sorry if I have interrupted anything. I heard in these parts it’s common to introduce yourself to your neighbours.” The rough voice sounded familiar, threateningly familiar, so did the figure that was standing in front of her, half clothed in shadows. When she took a little step to the side, the light of the hallway illuminated the man’s face. Fear pierced her heart like a bullet, had her stumbling backwards, her eyes immediately searching for something, anything she could defend herself with. No. Nonono! This was impossible, this couldn’t be happening! Frantically reaching for the umbrella next to the door, she grabbed it tightly and brought the tip up to his chest.

Her voice was shrill when she finally worked her way around the lump in her throat, panic like a straightjacket encasing her lungs. “Why are you here? What do you want? Who told you?” The man, she remembered his name, Thom Rainier, leader of a band of mercenaries back in Kirkwall. They’d met before, more than once and she recalled vividly how he had put a bullet in one of her sisters’ brain before aiming the gun at her… The man seemed baffled for a moment, then his eyes widened, obviously with realisation. Avisignis frowned at that. He hadn’t known who she was? Why then had he shown up at her doorstep?

Rainier raised his hands slowly, in a gesture of defeat, glancing down at the umbrella before his eyes found hers again and a little smile curled around his lips. Was he mocking her now? Her fear? “As crazy as that may sound but I’m not here for you. Well, I guess it doesn’t sound as crazy given that one of the Lavellans is living here too and in a fancy mansion like this on top of it.” He chuckled and Avisignis felt her blood run cold. She couldn’t trust him, he was lying, surely he had to be lying. “I moved in down the street. Hard to believe, I know, but I’m trying to get away from the whole dump in the Free Marches. But considering you’re here now I’m guessing you have a similar reason to not be in Kirkwall anymore. So what’s your deal? Killed a noble and snatched his house?”

She grit her teeth, willing her hands to stop trembling, as she glanced at the door. He was standing too close, if he’d just taken one step backwards she could’ve slammed the door in his face. A second later she realised that he’d followed her eyes and had apparently come to the same conclusion. Avisignis cursed herself. So she really was losing her touch, she’d gotten too secure, too lazy after those six years. At least she knew that her body still obeyed her, she’d continued her rigorous work-out, more because it made her feel safe than because she’d thought she’d need it. Well, good to know that at least she wasn’t entirely out of her depths.

“It’s _my_ house.” She spat. “And I’m not a Lavellan anymore. I’m a Pentaghast.” She had to kill him. He knew too much, he’d endanger not only herself but Cole as well and everyone who’d helped her. There was a gun in the kitchen cabinet, too far up for Cole to reach it even if he climbed on the counter, she’d made sure of that. But she wasn’t sure if there’d be an opportunity to get it. Her eyes flitted over his form, knowing that he could’ve hidden everything under the thick coat and cursing inwardly.

The tapping of soft footsteps behind her made her concentration waver. For a split second she relaxed the grip she had on the umbrella and it was the very same second Thom acted. His hand moved, almost faster than humanly possible, wrenching the umbrella out of her hands and taking another step forward. Suddenly the metal tip of the makeshift weapon was pressed against _her_ throat. Now there was no way left to get him out of the house without engaging in an actual fight. Avisignis felt panic, red hot panic flooding her body. And it wasn’t because she was suddenly face to face with a man she knew could snapped her neck with one hand but because the soft footsteps behind here were getting closer.

Taking a deep breath, it was her turn to raise her hands now, slowly while she prayed to Andraste that Cole would go straight to the kitchen instead of peeking into the hallway. Of course he didn’t. She saw the dawning realisation in Rainier’s face the same moment she felt the familiar weight of Cole leaning into her side. Not taking her eyes off her opponent, she lowered one hand to his shoulder. She had to be ready to push him back if it came to an actual exchange of blows between. Cole didn’t seem at all fazed by the scene, his hands fisted in Avisignis’ bathrobe he looked up at the stranger, though with the hat he refused to take off until he went to bed, neither Rainier nor Avisignis could see his face.

“Fuck.” It was Rainier who spoke first. He looked like someone had just punched him in the stomach, all the colour drained from his face. “You- I didn’t know you had a kid.” To Avisignis complete and utter surprise he lowered the umbrella, though he kept it in his hand, obviously not comfortable with the thought of giving it up completely. “Look I’m really not here to make trouble or anything. I wanna get away from my life as badly as you wanted to get away from yours. You understand. I may not have as good a reason as you but I’m tired of all the killing and everything. Sounds fake from my mouth, I get it, it surprised me too. But we can arrange ourselves, right? I don’t talk, you don’t talk. And we’re living close enough to come over and ki- react in case one of us breaks the deal, sounds good?”

Avisignis hesitated, still not sure if she could trust him even if his words sounded honest. “How much will they have to pay you to make you forget all about our _deal_?”

Rainier huffed out a breath, obviously amused. “I’m well off, _Pentaghast_. Though not better than you I guess. I don’t need to take bribes anymore. Rest assured.”

Cole’s little hand came up and to the surprise of both adults, he tugged at Rainier’s coat this time. “You’re not lying.” The boy sounded almost astonished and Avisignis could see a flash of pride in his eyes when he tilted his head far enough to reveal his face for a split second. She still hesitated. Cole was usually right in his assumptions. It seemed he was able to pick up random scraps of thoughts every now and then though it was beyond her how or what kind of thoughts he was sensitive to. Then, because Cole had already seen too much of this fight and she had no idea how she was going to explain all of this to him later without outright lying to him, she gave in.

“Alright. It’s a deal.” Another moment of hesitation, then a sigh fell from her lips and she ran a hand over her face, feeling entirely exhausted all of a sudden. “Come in.”

The door clicked shut behind him and the umbrella was placed next to the door once again. “The kitchen is the first door to the right. If you’re not sitting there when I get back I’ll hunt you down.” Then, without another glance at Blackwall, she picked up Cole and carried him up the stairs and to the bedroom.

The boy was quiet, not that it was anything unusual but she could practically feel the little cogwheels behind his forehead turning as he tried to process what was going on. Only now did she notice that he was trembling in her arms, holding onto her more tightly than strictly necessary. “It’s going to be alright.” She promised, putting him down next to the bed.

Cole didn’t move. Fists clenched, he stared at the floor to his feet. “Fear. He’s come for me. I need to run. Cole. Cole has to be safe. So much fear.” He mumbled and Avisignis’ hands, halfway under the pillow to find his pyjamas, stilled. Guilt flooded her stomach as she knelt on the floor next to him, gently offering her hands and then taking his when he didn’t indicate that he didn’t want to be touched.

“I was scared, yes, but now I’m not that scared anymore. The man won’t do anything bad to us.”

It was the first time Cole really looked up at her, his eyes boring into hers for longer than just a moment. “You are worried about me.”

Avisignis nodded. “I am worried because I care for you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Cole, I promised.”

The boy nodded, slowly, like he had to very seriously think about this. Then his gaze was directed at the floor again and when Avisignis offered him his pyjamas, he put them on without a complaint, quietly crawling under the covers. Only when she was at the door already, finger hovering over the light switch, she heard him whisper something that was meant for her ears alone: “Goodnight, mummy.”

Something was stuck in her throat but it wasn’t the same, ugly lump she’d felt before, it was something else entirely. “Goodnight.” She whispered back before closing the door behind her. It was just a word, she reminded herself. But why, if it was just a word, did she suddenly feel like nothing in the world could harm her in this moment?

Rainier was still in the kitchen. She was almost surprised to find him sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee he’d obviously poured himself. The thought that he went through her cupboards alarmed her but honestly, she would’ve done the same. With a sigh she sat down across from him, closing her laptop before looking up at him.

“Alright. Let’s talk.”

 

He went by Blackwall now. Gordon Blackwall. Like her he’d taken another name to hide from the demons of his past. She didn’t know how many of the tales, he told her, were lies but it didn’t matter. They came to an agreement and as much as she didn’t trust him, he had as much leverage against him as he had against her. They shook hands and his grip was firm, lingering just a little moment too long. She offered him another coffee but he said he had to get going. At the door, he glanced at the umbrella, flashing her a smile that was strangely infectious. “Mind if I borrow that one? It’s pouring. I promise I’ll bring it back.” It was the oldest trick in the book but she still lent him her umbrella.

 

If Avisignis had hoped to never see Val Royeaux again this year, she’d gotten them up way too high. She’d sent in her corrected draft and in her opinion it was juicy enough to be sold on a farmer’s market. For once, she’d been looking forward to a few days off without another deadline biting at her heels, maybe to take a little trip to Haven with Cole. They still had to take a look at the school there, after all he’d have to visit that one starting the next year. The thought made her nervous already, how would the other kids in school react to Cole? Would the teachers be kind enough to him? Well, her plans were thoroughly crossed when two days later the postwoman delivered a tell-tale emerald envelope to her door. It took her less than a second to recognise the seal and the groan she let out when she read the content was loud enough to have Cole look up from the drawing he’d been pouring all his attention into. Vivienne just loved to make last-minute appointments.

“Sweetheart,” she’d started with the pet names only after asking Cole if he was alright with them. He’d insisted that he liked them. “We might have to go to Val Royeaux tomorrow.” Because she had no one the boy could stay with while she was away on business. She didn’t trust any of her neighbours enough. Neither the nice old couple with the kittens, nor Blackwall who, despite his apparently honest intentions, was still on her long list of possible threats.

Cole only nodded, muttering something that only he understood before focusing on his drawing again. Avisignis guessed it was as much approval as she could’ve possibly gotten. With a sigh, she heaved herself up to prepare their dinner before it got too late and while the potatoes were boiling, started packing whatever they’d need just to make sure they wouldn’t forget anything the next day.

The city was still as unpleasant as always and this time she was convinced that even more people were giving her looks. A knife-ear and a kid with an ugly hat. It almost made her smile. They sure made a great team. Cole squeezed her hand in agreement. Luckily the visit at Vivienne’s publishing house only took them about half an hour. The woman was more than surprised to see Cole sitting on the chair next to Avisignis, when she entered the office and the strange cooing noise she made, as she patted his head was anything but reassuring. For once she didn’t have anything else that bothered her and she promised that she’d have the first printed edition in her hands by the next month. Avisignis was close to asking if that was the only reason why she had to take a five hour train trip because if it was, then she’d have to seriously think about getting another publisher. She’d considered asking Varric to pull a few strings, after all he was a published and very successful author himself.

Vivienne only smiled her gorgeous and quite deadly smile and leaned over the desk to whisper: “I have something good for you. I just had to tell you personally.” She paused dramatically, obviously expecting Avisignis to ask for further details. When she didn’t, she pursed her lips and continued. “I want you to do a serial. It will be perfect. Write more about the Templars and the Mages, the readers love everything that has to do with Thedas’ dark past. A lot of drama, a lot of smut. The readers will eat it up and you will make me an even richer woman.” Vivienne picked up one of the folders piled on her desk and opened it, pulling out a few pages and handing them over. “I have a few ideas for you, just things you could consider when you’re writing.”

She left with that, the usual kiss on the cheek, another pat on the head for Cole who seemed entirely lost in thought.

“He’s a strange kid.” The mage whispered into Avisignis’ ear before she left.

The Dalish dryly stated: “He can hear you.”

Back on the street, entirely frustrated because there had been _nothing_ they couldn’t have handled over the phone or via email for maker’s sake, they opted for getting something to eat and then taking a look at the bookstore again to find something Cole could practice reading with. With two new books and a gorgeous pie for dinner in her bag, they still had some time on their hands. It was probably Cole who led them there because Avisignis was sure, she hadn’t consciously taken the way back to the station that had them pass the orphanage. “Shall we say hi to everyone?” She asked Cole because after all they were there already and she’d wondered before if Cole was lonely or missing someone he’d met here. Cole nodded his head once.

The Sisters were more shocked than overjoyed to see them again, probably because they thought she was there to bring Cole back. But once she reassured them that they were only there to visit, she was greeted almost warmly, something she wasn’t used to at all. Cole disappeared and she didn’t worry about it. The Sister she’d talked to before was more than happy to have someone to chat with and she told her everything about the kids and the donations and how horrible some people acted around the orphans. Avisignis listened and chimed in with a ‘u-huh’, ‘yes’ and ‘I agree’ whenever it seemed fit. It was nice just listening to someone talk for once, who didn’t eye her ears every other minute like she was going to try and stab someone with them.

It was almost time to leave when Cole tugged at her hand. “He knows card tricks.” The boy said urgently, pulling her along. Curiously, she followed him to the wide common room. It reminded her a lot of her old orphanage only that this one was brightly lit, the walls painted in various colours. It looked almost friendly even. There was a Telly in the corner, showing one of the popular kids’ shows and a bunch of them sitting on pillows in front of the screen, completely fascinated. But Cole kept pulling her, away from the rest of the children and towards a corner of the room. A single boy sat there, hunched over something he was hiding in his hands and with a look of complete and utter concentration on his features. He looked only a bit older than Cole, two years at most and with his dark, unruly hair and the dark skin he reminded her of someone she’d met in Kirkwall a lifetime ago.

“He knows card tricks.” Cole repeated, motioning for Avisignis to sit down at the table next to the young boy before letting her help him onto her lap. It felt so normal by now to have him there, like he was always meant to be there, on her lap with his head resting against her shoulder. They both watched in fascination, as the kid, without looking up revealed the cards in his hands and then began shuffling them so fast that they were blurring into one single streak of red and white. Then, he clapped his hands once and when he opened them, the cards had disappeared into thin air. It was amazing. Avisignis could feel something, a whiff of something she hadn’t felt in a while. Not until she’d left Anders’ clinic. The kid looked up, his grey eyes sparkling with pride for a moment but his lips were pressed into a thin line, uncertain.

He wasn’t expecting any praise, she realised and immediately brought her hands together to clap. Cole joined her after a moment. “That was amazing! Do you have more tricks?”

The boy hesitated for a moment, contrasting emotions flickering over his face for a moment, before he pulled the set of cards out of his pocket again. He started shuffling them, then held them out to Avisignis. “You have to pick one.” He said and his light voice did nothing to hide his heavy accent. It was definitely Tevinter, Avisignis wondered how he ended up in an orphanage in Val Royeaux but she didn’t dare to ask. Instead she picked a card. “Look at it.” The boy insisted while he pushed the rest of the cards into his pocket again without taking a single look at them.

It was the Queen of Spades. She waited for further instructions but he only stared at her, searching something in her face. Pity maybe, fear, or disgust. Things that he was obviously used to see in people’s faces. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he averted his gaze, spreading his hands on the table and eyeing them as though they were the most interesting thing in all of Thedas. “Is it the Queen of Spades?”

Avisignis showed Cole the card, then put it down on the table. “That was really great, how did you know?”

That brought an actual smile to the kid’s lips. A smile that Avisignis thought suited him so much more than the wary and sad expression lingering there just moments ago. “Magic.” He simply said and Avisignis knew that he wasn’t exactly wrong. Maybe the kid didn’t realise it but he had magic potential. It was like electricity in the air and it made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. It was one of the only talents she’d inherited from the Dalish. Even if she herself had no magical talent at all, she could sense it.

The boy looked anxious as he waited for her reply and she gave him a smile in return. “Do you have more tricks? Cole and I would sure love to see some more.” The kid threw a look at Cole and there was a flash of something in his eyes that almost looked like jealousy.

Then he grinned. “I have dozens!”

 

They spent the next twenty minutes watching Dorian – he’d entrusted them with his name after the fourth trick – perform the most amazing little magic tricks, all things that were done without actual magic but the perfection with which he executed them spoke of real talent. With the right education he would be able to become a great mage, Avisignis thought, before she remembered that kids from orphanages rarely had the opportunity to get the education they needed. It upset her. Throwing a glance at the watch, she realised that they’d have to leave soon in order to catch their train. Dorian noticed it and she could see his expression darken. Suddenly the disappointment was back, he returned into his shell and gathered his cards from where he’d started to spread them over the table. “You have to go.” He said and his tone was at the same time accusing and sad and Avisignis thought she could feel her heart break.

It was Cole who answered instead of her: “Alone. All alone. No one plays with me. They’re scared. They make fun of me. I hate it. I want to go back home. Why did they leave me? Was I not good enough?” Avisignis could see how pale Dorian looked all of a sudden and before she could say anything, the boy had jumped to his feet and stormed off, leaving his cards on the table. She picked them up. They were used, carefully but often and had already started to wear out around the edges. And yet there wasn’t a single tear or kink in any of them. Dorian must’ve loved them very much if he took such great care of them.

It was Cole who distracted her from her study of the cards, tilting his head in the fashion he always used when he left the mode that was entirely too serious for a five year old. Wrapping his short arms around her neck, he asked: “We’ll take him home with us, right?”

The question stunned her for a moment. Whatever she had expected, this definitely wasn’t it. We can’t, she wanted to tell Cole, I don’t even know if he would want to come. But then she realised it was all excuses. Excuses that adults made up when they didn’t _want_ someone. The thought that she’d become just like the people she’d hated so much when she was younger, was sharper than any blade. “Will you go ask him if he wants to come with us?” She asked instead, carefully handing Cole the set of playing cards.

Cole beamed, his thin lips pulling into one of his rare, brilliant smiles and he hurried off. Avisignis smiled as she watched him, then she got up and went to find the Sister. There was more paperwork for her to fill out.

 


	4. Chapter Three aka Cassandra

 

Chapter Three

 

Dorian had moved into the room to the other side of her bedroom. At first the boy had believed it was all a trick to get his hopes up and then crush them by leaving him back at the orphanage. The same way his parents had done it, without a word of goodbye. He’d refused to unpack his bag for the first week, leaving it next to his bed like he was prepared to leave any minute. Avisignis had let him. She’d known that she couldn’t force him to accept her or his new home, especially not this easily. It would take time that she knew, for them to grow closer but she hoped that it would work out. Cole had been smitten with his new brother from the first day on, trailing after Dorian wherever he went and insisting to show him all his favourite places in the mansion. Dorian had let it happen, despite his initial distrust and Avisignis could see the pride in his eyes whenever Cole admired his card tricks or something else he did.

After the second week, Dorian had unpacked his bag. He’d started putting up posters on his walls, pictures of famous mages and comic heroes that Avisignis herself had loved as a child. Where at first, he’d avoided the kitchen whenever Avisignis was working and Cole was busy watching her or drawing but after a while he’d started to join them, every now and then taking the seat next to Cole and quietly – as to not disturb the working writer – pointing out the letters Cole didn’t recognise or teaching him to write simple words. It was always about as distracting as it was absolutely endearing, whenever she peered over her laptop, she’d see the two with their heads stuck together over a paper that was half filled with Dorian’s cursive handwriting and with the spidery letters the younger boy produced. They never argued. Dorian had snapped at Cole a few times in the beginning but always apologised momentarily later and Cole had seemingly never taken it personally or even particularly seriously.

A month had passed and Dorian had started visiting the school in Haven. When Avisignis had promised that she’d get a car soon so she would be able to drop him off in the mornings and fetch him in the afternoons, he’d insisted that he was fine on his own. Though he’d missed a few months, he didn’t struggle for too long, quickly catching up to both the teachers’ and Avisignis’ surprise. Dorian didn’t talk much about school and she suspected that he was having trouble finding new friends but she hoped that he’d be alright. There was only so much she could do and it made her feel guilty, powerless even. Whenever he came home though, Dorian would leave his bag in the kitchen and find her in her office. The question what was for dinner soon became his most used form of greeting, followed by a quick hug that was awkward at first but soon turned into Dorian clinging to her neck until she had no other option but to give him a piggy back ride back to the kitchen.

 

The phone was ringing. With the wind howling around the mansion and the rain drumming against the large windows she almost overheard the sound of her ringtone. Glancing up, she put down Dorian’s homework that she’d been reading over. He’d tentatively asked her to correct it, even though he hardly made any mistakes at all. She suspected he knew that as well and his face lit up whenever she praised him for his flawless work. Cole handed her the phone before she could even ask him to get it and with a smile she took it.

The smile dropped from her lips the very moment she saw who was calling. “Hawke?” Hawke never called, not unless it was something really important or serious or she was completely drunk and whining about how her life was shit and she missed Bethany. Only years after she’d left Kirkwall, the other woman had confessed that she had only been so ready to offer Avisignis her help because she’d somewhat reminded her of her sister.

Silence. Worry started to seep into Avisignis’ conscious and she was about to ask if everything was alright, when the Hawke finally spoke. “They’re dead. I thought I’d tell you myself before you get a call from the lawyer but… The Pentaghasts, they had a car accident a few days ago…” She stopped, obviously unsure what else she was supposed to say.

Avisignis knees felt weak all of a sudden, reaching out for the corner of the table to steady herself, she sank back into her chair. She’d just gotten another email from Mrs. Pentaghast two weeks ago, another passionate review of the book she’d sent them and another picture of her daughter attached to it. Vividly she could see the smiling face and the bright, brown eyes before her. “Avisignis?” Hawke asked, sounding as exhausted and small as Avisignis felt.

“Yes. I- sorry, I don’t know what to say.” The Pentaghasts shouldn’t have died. They didn’t deserve it. They were such lovely and kind people, helping wherever they could with little regard for their own safety. In this instant Avisignis felt guilty for being alive. She deserved death so much more and yet she had everything she’d ever dreamed off, a house, a life for herself and now even a family she loved dearly. She didn’t realise how much her hands were shaking until the phone almost slipped through her fingers.

Hawke hummed in response, a noise of understanding, agreement. She’d known the Pentaghasts for much longer than Avisignis had and yet she couldn’t see past her own grief to ask the friend if she needed any help. She could only think about how these people had been among the first and only ones to accept her as she was. The ones who’d given her a future, a name. They’d been more like parents for her than anyone else. She’d never thought that anything could happen to them. “Look, I know I can’t ask this from you but… could you come? They- the funeral will be on Sunday.”

Avisignis swallowed thickly. She’d sworn to never in her life set foot in Kirkwall again. Heavy silence descended upon them again and she could feel her heart beating against her ribcage.

Suddenly she felt something warm on her knee and when she looked down she saw Dorian, with his little hand on her leg, silently granting her the support that she needed without having the slightest idea what was going on. Managing a little smile, she reached out to ruffle his dark hair, before she cleared her throat.

“I’ll be there.”

A part of her wanted to regret the words as soon as they left her mouth but she silenced the voice at the back of her head quickly. These people had meant a lot to her, she still owed them, so much more than she could’ve ever repaid. And on top of that her friend needed her. Sure, Hawke had Varric and Anders and her whole group of strange but loveable friends but she wasn’t good at confiding in the people she cared about, always too scared to burden them. And out of her friends, the only one who had been close enough to the Pentaghasts to understand her grief over this loss, was Avisignis.

The relieved sigh at the other end of the line revealed just how right she was. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you then.” And then the line was dead.

Breathing deeply, Avisignis placed the phone on the table, trying to will her hands to stop shaking. Dorian watched her, his wide eyes filled with a fear that tore at her heart. Instinctively she reached out, wrapping his arms around his delicate frame and pulling him close. She had to be strong, for Dorian, for Cole. She couldn’t let this affect her, couldn’t let her own fear win over the desire to protect those she held dear. “Don’t worry.” She mumbled in Dorian’s soft hair. The boy hugged her back, his distress obvious in the way he clung to her. “We’ll be fine.” She promised him, though she wasn’t sure if the words were really meant for him.

 

She took the kids with her when she went to visit Gordon later that day. They knew the way already, running ahead to greet the man she’d slowly started to trust over the last months. Never had she thought that something like that could happen but she’d begun to think of him as a friend, someone she could rely on when something happened. He’d stopped by her house every now and then. They’d never talked about anything related to Kirkwall, the past remaining something that was at the same time tying them together and buried deep. For some reason Cole trusted him, though he was still a bit reserved around him. Dorian had still not entirely warmed up to him, wary as much as he was around every stranger. Maybe he sensed that there was something else but he seemed to trust Avisignis enough to accept Blackwall. They’d even struck up some sort of a companionship, bound together by mutual interests as they’d quickly figured out when Dorian had started talking about his favourite comics and the older man had let on that he knew almost as much about them as the boy did.

He was surprisingly gentle with the kids, always willing to engage them in meaningless conversations, even letting them help with the painting of the little figurines he made out of wood in his workshop. It was odd seeing him like this but the feeling of trust that it planted in her chest was even more unexpected. Avisignis sensed that there was more to it, that his kindness wasn’t entirely selfless but she had never found the right moment to ask, nor did she know if she even wanted to explore this option.

In this moment she could only hope that he wouldn’t turn her away when she asked him for a favour. The thought gnawed at her mind and she still wasn’t convinced that this was truly the best option. She didn’t want to leave her children, not when they had finally opened their little hearts to the option of a real family, a real mother who loved them and would never abandon them. She hadn’t talked to Dorian or Cole yet, mostly because she hadn’t made up her mind yet. But she couldn’t take them to Kirkwall with them. There was no way she’d let her children go anywhere near the place that had swallowed so many people whole and spit them out broken or dead. Not when she herself wasn’t safe in those streets. There were still those who could recognise her and the fear froze her heart in her chest. Even with Hawke at her side there was a distinct possibility that she wouldn’t come back from this place alive and she wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ endanger her children like that.

Gordon greeted her with his usual half-smile but once he saw the expression on her face, his expression grew more serious. “Come in.” He said, his voice a familiar rasp. He helped Cole out of his coat and offered the same to Dorian.

“I can do it myself.” Dorian said dismissively, though he had to stand on his tiptoes to throw his coat over the hook. Gordon chuckled and held out a hand for Avisignis’ jacket instead. She handed it to him, forcing a little smile on her lips that was betrayed by the way she flinched when Cole stumbled over the laces of his shoes. Hastily she knelt down, helping the boy up and out of his shoes. Cole pecked her cheek in return and she was glad that he didn’t seem to pick up any of the thoughts racing in her head. The boy was cheerful, taking Dorian’s hand and pulling him into the workshop as soon as Gordon allowed it, to look at the pretty things the ‘magic hands’ as the boy had called them before, had fabricated.

It left the two adults standing in the hallway. “Come on, I have coffee for you.” Gordon said softly and Avisignis nodded, quietly following him into the kitchen and sitting down on the chair that, she suspected, was already reserved by her at this point. She’d been here often enough to feel oddly familiar, hands tracing the edge of the table as she watched the older man pour her a mug of steaming hot coffee.

With a mumbled “Thank you.” She accepted it. It was too hot but she still took a sip, just so she had something to do before she’d have to talk about the reason for her visit. She was still uncertain, though it was obvious that she didn’t have a choice.

Gordon, who was obviously almost as good at reading her thoughts as Cole by now, sat down at the other side of the table. “So, I’m guessing you’re not here because you missed my charming company?”

It made her smile a little. “I’m always looking forward to your charming company.” She said it lightly but it was only partly a joke. Figuring that it was no use to beat around the bush, she drew up her shoulders and placed the mug on the table in front of her. “I need to ask you something. I know, it’s a lot to ask but…”

“Out with it.” He urged her good-naturedly.

Avisignis decided to go with the whole story, simply because she knew he’d understand. “The Pentaghasts died a few days ago. A car accident. Hawke wants- I need to go to the funeral. I know Kirkwall isn’t safe but they did so much for me, without ever asking for anything in return and I feel like I owe them that much. But I can’t take the children. It’s dangerous for them.”

Gordon frowned, the distaste obvious on his face. “It’s not safe for you either. What do you think, that you’ll just get lucky and no one will see you? What will happen to the children if you don’t come back because you got yourself killed? The Pentaghasts knew how things were, they wouldn’t want you to throw yourself head first into danger just to attend their funeral.” His words were harsh but she hadn’t expected him to agree with her plan.

She sighed, looking up at him with a pleading expression. “Please, Gordon. I need to do this. Just, if you could watch out for the kids. I’ll be gone one, two days at most. I promise nothing will happen to me.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, those are the worst.” He muttered but she could see his resolve weakening. “Oh, don’t give me that look, it’s not fair. I still don’t approve. It’s an unnecessary risk if you ask me but it’s your call. The kids will be safe with me. Have you told them?”

Avisignis shook her head. “I wanted to ask you first. I will talk to them later.”

He hummed in response and continued to frown into his coffee until they heard the soft tapping of feet in the hallway. Seconds later she had an armful of Cole and an uncharacteristically quiet Dorian at her side. He was still upset, she could see it in the way his thin brows were practically knitted together and she turned her head to place a kiss on his forehead.

“You know, if you keep glowering for too long, your face will stay like this forever.” Blackwall chimed in. Dorian opened his mouth to protest and soon he was too busy arguing about whether or not a face could just freeze in a certain position to glower.

 

The kids took it better than she expected. Her explanation that she’d have to go away for business for one or two days was met with initial silence. After a moment, Cole just nodded, as always not acting his age when he patted her cheek, saying that it was alright. Dorian avoided her eyes, obviously not wanting her to see that he didn’t like the idea of her going away. She knew he wanted to act brave, didn’t want to make her worry. “Of course it’s alright.” He muttered but his voice was small and his hand gripped hers tightly. “Just come back.” The last part was whispered and there was so much more in these three words. _Don’t just leave me like they did._

Avisignis swallowed past the lump in her throat and hugged them both tightly. The feeling that the two depended on her, needed her like that filled her heart with warmth and her veins with ice cold dread. She wouldn’t disappoint them, she swore herself. She would never make them go through something as horrible as losing her.

She worked until way past midnight, pouring all her emotions into the story she was writing. It was way past midnight when she decided to call it a night and climbed the stairs up to her room. How surprised was she to find two lumps in her bed, instead one. Curled up next to each other Dorian and Cole were sleeping soundly and she tip-toed her way to the wardrobe to change into her pyjamas before she carefully crawled under the blanket. Dorian mumbled something in his sleep, shifting restlessly. Avisignis brushed the curls of his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead. He stirred but didn’t wake, snuggling up to her and immediately relaxing. Only moments later he was breathing deeply again.

 

Sunday came and brought more rain and cold wind with it. It was the perfect weather for a funeral, she thought as she packed her bag. Gordon had offered to drive her to the train station and soon she was standing on the platform, with a heavy heart and Dorian and Cole holding her hands like they never wanted to let go. Or maybe she was clutching their hands because suddenly she realised how dumb her decision had been. She didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave the two people he loved above all else behind if only for a little while. Dorian was crying, she’d seen the tear tracks on his face before he’d hastily wiped them away with his sleeve and the sight broke her heart.

“Come back.” He begged, holding her hand tightly. “Promise you’ll come back.” On her other side Cole had wrapped his arms around her waist again, hiding his face in her coat.

Avisignis cleared her throat, trying her best to swallow down the tears that had started to gather in her own eyes. And here she’d always laughed at those parents who cried when they sent their kids to school for the first time, now she was exactly that. “I’ll come back, darling. I promise. I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

Dorian shook his head vigorously. “I miss you already.” He admitted quietly.

The destination board reminded her that she had only a few minutes left to catch her train and she drew both of her kids into a tight hug. “If everything goes well, Mummy will be back for breakfast tomorrow. You play with Gordon, go to sleep and in the morning I’m there to wake you up.”

Cole sighed against her stomach. “Bye mummy.”

“Bye mum.” Dorian echoed, only hesitantly letting go of her hand, his other coming up to furiously wipe at his face.

Gordon gave her a little nod, his hand lingering on her shoulder for a moment. “Be careful.”

Avisignis nodded, kissing both her children goodbye and with her bag in hand boarded the train. From the window she could see Cole and Dorian waving frantically and she hurried to wave back, blowing them a kiss before the train rolled out of the station and they disappeared out of sight.

 

Kirkwall was just as ugly as she remembered it. Even from miles away one could see the black steam rising from the factories, darkening the sky over the city. She remembered the ash that had sometimes rained from the sky when she was a child. The adults at the orphanage had always warned them not to breathe too deeply, as if that would’ve done any good. Many of the children had fallen ill, their lungs stained with the ash and the smoke. Hawke was waiting for her at the station, welcoming her with a hug that almost crushed all of her bones. She’d forgotten how strong the human was and even though she wasn’t that tall, she still towered over Avisignis. The smile on her face was strained and even Varric, who was, as always, by her side looked gloomy. He shook Avisignis hand, greeting her with a crooked smile and a joke that sounded forced.

“Great fan of your books by the way. Told Hawke she should consider hiring you as her new biographer.”

Hawke only shrugged, doing her best to reply as light-heartedly as possible. “No one can tell spectacular lies about me as well as you can.”

They stopped by the clinic to fetch Anders and Isabela before heading for the graveyard. Strangely enough Avisignis felt safe with these people. Even with the shadow of the city hanging over her, with the constant threat of being exposed, she found that she wasn’t as afraid as she’d expected. Kirkwall was breathing in her neck, sending shivers down her spine and she realised that she hadn’t missed it at all. Every street, every corner spoke to her and reminded her of the pain this city had brought her, of the bad memories, the blood and the nightmares. Anders asked about her shoulder and she told him that it only hurt when it was cold. He promised to give her a salve and that was the end of their conversation. They all fell back into their silence, slowly making their way from the parking lot to the gate of the graveyard. Only rich people were buried in Kirkwall and only those with old families and their own crypts. Everyone else was given to the flames, the wealthy merchants just like the nameless corpses that turned up narrow alleyways.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Hawke told her but the service was about to begin and soon the sonorous voice of the Priestess drowned out everything else.

Avisignis refused to walk up to the coffins like everyone else did. She wanted to keep the Pentaghasts in her memory like they were supposed to be: Alive, cheerful and kind. Only when the service was almost over did she recognise the girl sitting in the first row as the Pentaghast daughter. Cassandra looked nothing like she did on the pictures, she wasn’t smiling, didn’t have that mischievous spark in her eyes. Despite her tanned skin she looked pale, eyes rimmed with red and bruised. She was barely able to move in the ugly black dress someone had no doubt forced her into and her movements were stiff when she followed the procession down the steps of the crypt.

Someone announced that there was a buffet waiting for everyone inside the estate once the funeral was over. Avisignis had never understood why people would celebrate so shortly after laying someone to rest. It had to be a human tradition. Not that she knew much about the rites of the Dalish but she couldn’t imagine her kind doing something like that. A prejudice maybe. She lingered, waited until everyone was inside before she approached the now sealed door of the crypt.

For a moment she didn’t know what to say, there were no words left on her tongue but she felt like she _had_ to say something. “Thank you.” She finally managed to get past her constricting throat. “Thank you for everything. You gave me so much I- I never pay you back.” The stone didn’t answer. Of course it didn’t. She felt dumb for even talking to a door but now that she had begun, she could just as well continue. Before she knew it everything that was on her mind poured out of her mouth. “I never understood why you did it. You risked your own lives for me. I didn’t ask for it and you still gave me everything. I didn’t deserve it back then, I don’t think I still deserve it. Maker, you didn’t deserve to die. If I could’ve died in your place I…”

“That’s horseshit!” The voice startled her out of her thoughts and she whirled around only to find the girl from earlier standing in front of her. Her face stained with tears and her dress muddy as though she’d thrown herself on the ground in her grief, she glared up at Avisignis. Her fists were clenched and on her face anger mixed with sadness. “If you really knew my parents you should know that they wouldn’t allow you to talk that way! Mama would wash your mouth out with soap for saying something that dumb.”

Completely surprised, Avisignis had a hard time finding any words at all. In the end she settled for a little “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say something so insensitive.”

The girl shrugged, her face too hard for a nine year old. “It doesn’t matter anyway. They’re gone.”

Before Avisignis had time to say something in return, an elderly women appeared behind Cassandra. “There you are, come now, your dress is all dirty.” Her gaze flickered over to Avisignis and the Dalish could see how her lips pressed together in distaste before she proceeded to drag Cassandra towards the house. “Didn’t know the servants were invited too.” Avisignis could hear her mutter under her breath.

If they weren’t on a graveyard momentarily, she would’ve thrown something at her. Like this she settled on shaking her head. With a last glance at the tomb, she slowly followed the woman towards the house. Hawke had said she wanted to talk.

The dining hall of the grand estate was crowded with people, most of them dressed in expensive and extravagant robes. Among them, Hawke’s little group stuck out like a sore thumb. She herself was widely known, the Champion of Kirkwall, the one who had given blood and sweat for this city. Avisignis joined them at their table, gratefully accepting the glass of wine that was placed in her hand.

“I bet they’re already talking about politics again. Who will inherit, who will profit from their death.” Hawke muttered darkly, unabashedly staring at some of the guests who had formed a loose circle near the buffet table and chatting loudly. “They’re under the earth for half an hour and everyone is already more concerned with their money than everything else.”

Varric placed a hand on her arm, probably to keep her from doing anything she would regret. Avisignis kept quiet, sipping her drink and checking her phone every ten minutes. She was nervous, though she couldn’t quite say why. Gordon had promised to call if anything happened, the kids would be safe with him and yet there was something bothering her. It’s just the amount of people gathered, she told herself, there’s too many unfamiliar faces.

As it was she was glad when Hawke decided that she’d glared at pretentious people for long enough and obviously remembered that she’d meant to tell Avisignis something. Gesturing for her to follow, the Champion led her away from the dining hall and into the office she remembered from her first time at the estate. Where the sturdy desk had six years ago been piled with stacks of paper and folders and a humming laptop, it was now strangely empty. Someone had tidied up and it made the room look lonely, uninhabited. She wondered if the rest of the estate was the same. Void of any human warmth, of the family that lived here only a week ago.

“What was it you wanted to talk about?” She asked, before she could lose herself too much in the thought.

Hawke slumped into the comfortable armchair next to the door. She looked exhausted, the bags under her eyes despite her make up telling exactly how much this had affected her. Avisignis wondered if she had slept at all the last nights. “It’s about the will.” She began, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “The lawyer contacted me and I told him to keep quiet about it until after the funeral but I guess he can only last so long under the pressure of all that vultures.” She meant the other nobles, obviously, specifically the other Pentaghasts. It was a big family, that much Avisignis knew, with a lot of relatives, Mrs. and Mr. Pentaghast rarely talked about because they weren’t exactly on the best terms. “I didn’t know about it either until two years ago. Apparently Cassandra will inherit everything. The estate, the money, the entire rest. The vultures won’t like it but they’ll try to figure out a way to get it anyway. Which is where you come in.”

Avisignis frowned, not quite sure where this was going. Skyhold had been her property for several years now. It wouldn’t have been featured in the will, so there should be no reason why this had anything to do with her. She didn’t dare to interrupt Hawke though. “They named you as the guardian for Cassandra until she turns eighteen. It’s legal, you’re listed as a relative even though no one has ever heard of you and you’re a Pentaghast. I didn’t know- I’m guessing they thought you’d be the only one who wouldn’t take Cassandra in to get to her money.”

Dumbfounded again, she didn’t exactly know what to do with the information. She’d never been that close to the Pentaghasts. She owed them everything but she’d never thought they’d consider her as a guardian for their daughter. If anyone they should’ve picked Hawke. “They could’ve picked you.” She said tentatively.

Hawke blinked and for a split second Avisignis worried that her friend had had the same thought and that she was bitter about the bad choice, then she broke into laughter. “Maker knows I would be the last person someone would ask to be the guardian of their children. Apart from you of course.” It was the first honest smile that had graced her lips on that day. After a moment she sat up straight and leant forward, elbows on her knees as she mustered the Dalish in front of her. “I think the Pentaghasts were right to pick you, you might’ve been nothing but a street rat six years ago but you’ve proven yourself over and over again. Andraste’s tits you’ve even got two kids of your own now, if that doesn’t scream ‘responsible’ I don’t know what does.”

Quietly, she shook her head. Again she was overwhelmed, the Pentaghasts, even after their death still managed to leave her at a loss. Too much kindness, too much trust, too much everything.

The older woman watched her, blue eyes thoughtful, as she spoke again. “I don’t think they’ll wait very long. Soon you’ll be asked to decide whether or not you’ll take Cassandra in. When they do, what will you say?”

Avisignis wished Hawke would’ve given her more time to think, more time to consider. She thought of Dorian and Cole, of the many empty rooms at the Skyhold mansion. Her thoughts wandered to the girl with the muddy dress and the tear stained face. The Pentaghasts trusted her enough to leave her with their one most important person. She had the responsibility to take care of her, she owed them that much and so much more. Why was she scared of this? She hadn’t been so scared when she’d accepted Cole into her heart or Dorian.

Biting her bottom lip, she met Hawke’s gaze and took a deep breath. “I’ll take her.”

 


	5. Chapter Four aka Solas

Chapter Four

 

Cassandra hadn’t said a single word since they boarded the train. Quietly staring out of the window, she still looked incredibly pale and tired, even now that she was wearing something more comfortable than the ugly dress of hers. Avisignis had told her she could sleep if she wanted, that she’d wake her up once they arrived at the station but the girl had only shaken her head and, without a single glance at the Dalish, continued to look out of the window. Avisignis didn’t know what she was hoping to see out there in the darkness but she didn’t press her. It was hard, being all alone all of a sudden. Being thrown into a world that was too harsh and cold for a girl her age. Avisignis just hoped that she’d be able to help her through it. She had no illusions that it would be easy to coax Cassandra out of her shell and to get her to a point where she could start looking forward again.

The darkness almost gave way to dawn when they arrived back in the Dales. The cold air greeted them with an icy embrace as they walked through the station, Avisignis carrying the two suitcases and Cassandra clinging to her colourful backpack like it was the only hold she had on a world that was more familiar, more welcoming. She fell asleep in the cab, her little head falling against Avisignis’ arm, trapping her against the window of the backseat. Trying her best not to move, she lowered her voice to give the driver directions. When they offered to carry Cassandra into the house, she just shook her head, asking him to wait a few minutes until she returned to pay him. Carefully she lifted the girl up in her arms before she made her way up the wide stairs and into the foyer of the mansion. After a little moment of consideration, she carried her to the master bedroom, setting her limp form down on top of the blankets. Trying her best not to wake the sleeping one, Avisignis took off her shoes and the thick jacket before tucking the blanket around her. She hesitated a little moment, then she slipped out of the room again leaving the door ajar. On her way back down she quickly checked on Dorian and Cole, relieved to find the both of them sleeping soundly in their beds.

The cabby helped her carry the luggage inside and told her that she had an adorable daughter. Avisignis considered correcting them but the car had already left the driveway before she’d made up her mind. With a sigh, she went back inside, locking the door behind her. On the couch in the living room she found Gordon, snoring peacefully and she wondered how he could sleep this soundly. Was he not haunted by his past like her or had he just murdered his guilty conscious like he did with so many innocent people? She pushed the thought aside immediately, realising that he wasn’t that person anymore. No matter what he’d been in the past, now he was just the guy who looked out for her kids when she was away and he was grateful for that. Heading into the kitchen, she found the remnants of what had obviously been the boys’ dinner. Starting the coffeemaker, she washed the dishes and wiped the table before letting herself fall onto one of the chairs.

Tired as she was, she didn’t feel like sleeping anymore and instead decided to start on the next chapter of her story. The hero had just made an entrance and there was still a lot she had a lot of growing to do before she could fall in love with the beautiful Knight-Commander. She’d have to let go of her past and embrace her destiny.

 

The first days Cassandra had refused to leave her new room and holing herself up and not talking to any of the other inhabitants of the large house. She’d only started eating after Avisignis had insisted that she did, telling her that her parents wouldn’t want her to starve. Dorian hadn’t trusted the new family member at all at first but when Avisignis had told him that he’d have to show her around the new school and make sure she was alright, he’d grudgingly – and surprisingly quickly – accepted the job. Cole on the other hand had practically spent the first days camping in front of Cassandra’s room, insisting that he could accompany Avisignis when she brought her food and even when Cassandra didn’t talk to him, chattering on about whatever crossed his mind. Avisignis suspected that it was him who had in the end convinced Cassandra to come out of her cave and join them at the dinner table. From there on things had gotten better, the three of them had slowly started to get along, tentatively striking up a friendship.

Cassandra loved the wide garden. The first time Avisignis had showed her the grounds of the estate, she’d brightened up immediately. Most of all she was completely smitten with the old walnut tree, scaling the branches effortlessly. Where Cole and Dorian still preferred the attic, Avisignis often found her up in the tree, off-key singing to the melodies of the songs she’d heard on the radio. As strange as it had been in the beginning, the more time passed, the more they started to become a real family.

With the end of the year and First Day coming up, the mansion’s grounds were covered with a thick blanket of snow. Soon it grew too cold to play outside for too long, though the kids insisted to go out anyway, building snowmen and a statue that, Avisignis suspected, was supposed to be her. It looked more like a demon but when Cassandra proudly declared that it was an elf, she admitted out loud that it definitely looked like a pretty elf. Dorian accidentally melted one of the smaller statues when he stumbled over a branch and Avisignis decided that it was definitely time to find someone who could teach him how to control his magic. Not that he often set things on fire but the things he touched would occasionally smell charred. She’d found someone in Haven, a charming nice lady who offered to teach Dorian on Mondays and Fridays after school and when she told Dorian about it, his lips pulled into a smile so wide, she almost expected it to reach his ears.

“I’ll be a real mage soon!” He exclaimed, voice trembling with pride and then he promised, he’d learn spells that would help her with the household chores so she wouldn’t have to do them anymore.

 

She took the kids along when she went to the city to finally purchase a car. She couldn’t always rely on Gordon to drive her kids everywhere. The saleswoman eyed her and the children for a moment, before she, without another word, lead them to the back of the parking lot to the ‘family cars’ as she called them. Avisignis, who had spent the days before browsing the internet, trying to figure out what kind of things were important when buying a car, ended up letting Dorian and Cassandra try sitting in each one until they declared which one was the most comfortable. It was a big car and if she was honest, she thought it was kind of ugly but after all she wasn’t looking for a sports car or anything. “It has character.” The saleswoman told her and with the help of Cassandra, who was fascinated by the workings of the car radio, Avisignis decided that it was probably the best choice. They stopped by the bookshop on their way home and almost lost Cassandra when she disappeared into the fantasy corner, admiring the pretty covers and giving Avisignis her best puppy-dog eyes until she bought her the book about the dragon slaying warrior.

Later at the dinner table Cassandra announced that she wanted to be a knight too when she was older. Dorian shot back that mages were a lot cooler than knights anyway. They were still arguing when Avisignis herded them up the stairs and to the bathroom later, Cole gleefully watching as Cassandra wielded her toothbrush like a sword and Dorian threatened to set her pillow on fire.

The next day, when the kids were at school, Avisignis called the sword fighting club in Haven to ask if they had children’s groups as well. She’d wanted to tell Cassandra at the dinner table but Cole gave away the secret, by mistake or not, blurting it out as soon as she got home from school. Avisignis had just finished cutting the onions, when a squealing nine year old jumped into her arms, smearing mud all over her clothes and messily kissing her cheeks. It was a welcome surprise. Two weeks later, the girl was loudly complaining about how _everyone_ was tagging along to watch her first training but she completely forgot about the audience when she saw the wooden training swords. She was younger than the other kids and the instructor voiced his concerns about that but it soon became clear that she was not only extremely talented but also able to take on almost everyone in the class.

 

Avisignis had volunteered to bake cookies for the children at the orphanage for First Day and the kids helped her with the decorating and in the meantime making a huge mess of the kitchen. With their basket full of cookies and their thick winter coats, they finally marched down to the bus station then, Dorian still with a bit of flour on his cheeks. They played cards on the train and Avisignis taught them how to cheat without anyone noticing. Dorian was best at it, he was so used to handling his set of playing cards that he could make them disappear into his sleeves with a flick of his fingers. Cole was so proud that he could do the simple math that was required for the game that he completely forgot about playing and Cassandra grumbled about how cheating was unknightly.

The orphanage was decorated with colourful banners and fairy lights in the windows. Cassandra asked if they could be the ones to distribute the cookies and Avisignis saw no reason to deny her that wish. In the end they were the middle of a huge circle of happily eating kids. The Sister complimented Avisignis on her work with Dorian and Cole, saying that she’d barely recognised the boys because they were so cheerful. It wasn’t her work, Avisignis hurried to say and she admitted that the kids made her about as happy as their little family made them. The Sister nodded. “I can see that, Messere. You’re practically glowing.” It wasn’t something anyone had told her before and she wasn’t quite sure what to reply. Not that she needed to, the Sister was more than happy to go on about her work and the holiday. When she had finished talking about how horrible it was that they couldn’t take all the children on a trip so they would see something outside the city, she lowered her voice a bit. “We have another problem child. The city guard brought him in the other day and he hasn’t said a single word since. The other kids say he’s talking to ghosts at night… We don’t really know what to do with him because, you see, he’s like you.” She gestured towards Avisignis’ ears.

“He’s an elf? Or do you mean to say he’s a Dalish?” She asked, suddenly a lot more interested in what the Sister had to say. There had been a lot of other elven children in the Alienage orphanage but she hadn’t expected any of them here, in Val Royeaux of all places.

The sister nodded. “He wouldn’t even tell us his name.” She motioned for Avisignis to follow her and with a last glance back at the kids who were playing some kind of game that included a lot of jumping around, she did. They walked down a hallway and to one of the little rooms that were meant for the older children. The boy who was sitting with his back against the headboard of his bed didn’t even acknowledge them, he just kept reading the worn out book he held in his hands. Even with the dark hair that was falling into his face, Avisignis could see that he didn’t have the facial tattoo that would mark him as one of the Dalish. The pointed ears however were a dead giveaway. So he was a city elf, like the ones who lived in the Alienage, neither in touch with their clans nor really part of the human society.

“Aneth ara.” At that the boy’s head jerked up, his light blue eyes focusing on her.

He seemed beyond surprised to see her, another elf in this place but he didn’t seem too interested when he spoke, still not closing that book of his. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Avisignis shrugged. “My name is Avisignis. I came here to bring cookies for everyone that my kids and I made.” She hesitated for a second, before she continued. “The Sister said that you haven’t been very happy and she asked if I would talk to you. So here I am. Who are _you?”_

The smile on her lips wasn’t returned, though the boy finally closed his book and put it aside. “I’m Solas. And of course I’m not happy, I don’t like it here. Fen’Harel says this place is evil.”

At that she raised an eyebrow. “Fen’Harel?” She hadn’t met a city elf who still believed in the dread wolf in a while and it surprised her.

Instead of answering, the kid pulled something out from under the covers. On second glance, Avisignis saw that it was a stuffed animal, a small wolf with yellow eyes and bared fangs. It was cute but also kind of creepy at the same time. “It’s an evil place. The spirits don’t like it either.” He said, hugging the wolf to his chest. “The others don’t understand. They can’t see the spirits. They call me a demon and scary. They know nothing about elves either. I told them I can live on my own, I did it before but they wouldn’t let me go. I don’t get it, they don’t care about me anyway, why would they force me to stay in this place?”

She frowned. “How old are you, Solas?”

He narrowed his eyes in obvious suspicion. “Twelve. Why does it matter? Are you going to tell them to let me go?”

A sigh fell from her lips. She knew exactly how he felt, how much he hated to be kept in a place that he despised. Looking at him like this it was almost as though she was looking at her past, at the small girl who wanted nothing but to run away and never see the ugly, grey walls of the orphanage again. But she’d had nowhere else to go and neither did Solas. He’d have to stay until he was old enough to live a life of his own. If he wasn’t recruited by some organisations of thieves or murderers before. If he didn’t turn into a thug, he’d end up like all the elves in the Alienage, poor, desperate and looked down on by everyone else. The thought hurt her and she knew she couldn’t leave him here. How much had she wished for someone to come and take her away when she’d been younger. How long had she been standing at the window, waiting for some mysterious member of her clan to show up out of nowhere, telling her it had all been a mistake and that they had come to take her back. But they’d never come. And she had grown up full of hatred, desperate and scared, an easy target for the Lavellan clan.

“I don’t think I can do that.” She started and the look on his face hardened. He’d already turned away and picked up his book once again, when she continued. “But I can offer you something else. It may not be as glamourous as a life on the streets but it would get you away from this place.”

A smile crept on her lips when she saw the way his eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish.

“That is if you want to. You’d have to get along with the others and they can be a hand full. It’s a really nice house though, with a lot of rooms that no one uses, you could choose one and the attic is amazing, Dorian and Cole built a blanket fort up there, they’re calling it their headquarters. There’s even a library though I’ve never gotten around to buy enough books to fill all the shelves.”

The boy’s face lit up, though he tried his best to keep the bored expression on his face. “You’re lying.” He said quietly. “You’re trying to trick me.” He tried his best to keep the bored expression on his face but she could practically feel how much he wished for it to be true.

Avisignis shook her head. “I’m serious. You should ask Dorian or Cassandra, I think you’d like her, she loves to read too. But only stories about knights.”

Solas glanced from her to the Sister who was still standing in the door and then back again. “I can really come with you? I never thought a Dalish would be so nice…” His words made her wonder what exactly he’d heard of the Dalish. Not that she had a lot of knowledge about them, she had never really known any herself.

“If that is what you want and if the Sister allows it.” She turned around to shoot the aforementioned a questioning look.

The other woman nodded, the smile that was tugging at her lips at the same time honest and relieved. It was almost like she’d _planned_ for this to happen. “Of course, I will take care of the papers.”

Solas practically jumped off his bed to start packing his things. How quickly he was finished proved that he really had no attachment to this place. The last thing he picked up was his Fen’Harel, carefully like it was the most precious thing he owned. “Thank you.” He said to Avisignis, his eyes serious and she felt the urge to ruffle his hair but refrained from doing so.

Holding out a hand to take his suitcase, she nodded towards the door. “Let’s go?”

A little smile played around the boy’s lips for a second and with a curt nod, he strode out the door.

 

Cassandra kept glaring at Solas on the train ride home, neither trusting, nor finding him especially interesting, while Dorian was immediately enraptured by the elf’s apparent knowledge about all sorts of magic. Earlier Solas had asked Cole why he was pretending to be human when he was truly a spirit but before Avisignis had even had the opportunity to step in, Cassandra had made it very clear that Solas would have to keep his mouth shut. Cole had just shrugged, not answering the question and instead leaning his head on Avisignis’ shoulder, exhausted from the excitement of the day. It went quiet after a while. Dorian pulled out his set of playing cards again, trying to convince Cassandra to play another round and Solas had just watched them, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and longing. It was obvious that, despite his haughty demeanour, he was craving to be part of a family like this and Avisignis was intent on giving him exactly that: A home.

The mansion was warm and welcoming when they returned, the decorations glittering in the warm light of the setting sun. Avisignis asked Cassandra to show Solas around, offering him to pick a room for himself wherever he wanted, be it on the same story as the rest of them or wherever else. A few minutes later they were on their way, the whole squad bouncing off to show the new kid _everything_ , from the garden, to the many rooms and especially the attic. Avisignis knew that he would be formally introduced to the headquarters and she had no doubt that he would be accepted in their middle. In the meantime she disappeared into the kitchen, pushing the urge to go back to work aside to instead focus on the preparations for their own little First Day celebration. Once the casserole was prepared, she began with her little surprise for the children, the same fruit cake she’d made for Cole’s name day.

It was dark outside, once the kids returned from the attic and she found that even Solas’ face was flushed and there was a joy in his eyes even his constant scowl couldn’t hide. With the kids settling around the table, Avisignis was informed about Solas’ decision to move into the room in the little tower on the east side of the mansion. It was right underneath the library but still close enough to the east wing and the master bedroom. She nodded and put aside the fork that she’d used to prod at the casserole. With all the shops closed he’d have to sleep in her bed for a few days while she moved back onto the couch – or Cole’s bed but she promised him that once the holiday was over, they’d all go to Haven together where he’d be able to pick out whatever he needed in his new room. Solas agreed, unsuccessfully trying to hide his excitement. Finding a good school for him would be more of an effort, after all he was too far ahead to attend elementary school together with Cassandra and Dorian. They’d handle it, she said confidently, together they’d figure it all out.

The hours passed and though Cole and Dorian struggled to hide their sighs, they were too excited to go to bed. It was the one day of the year when everyone was allowed to stay up until midnight, to greet the New Year. Around seven the sound of the doorbell announced that Gordon had indeed kept their appointment. The man was welcomed warmly, Dorian and Cole pulling him into the living room and Cassandra immediately reminding him that he’d promised to teach her a few more cool moves with the sword. Gordon chuckled, ruffling Dorian’s hair and telling Cassandra to get her training sword. “Only until dinner is ready.” He warned her and she immediately sprinted up the stairs to fetch the wooden weapon. Solas remained on the couch, quietly watching the scene and not entirely convinced that it was something he wanted to be any part of. His eyes narrowed he mustered the stranger, who the others were so fond of. Feeling like it would be a mistake to leave Solas alone to his brooding, Avisignis waved at Gordon from her seat on the couch next to the boy. The corner of his mouth turning up in a crooked smile, he waved back and, with Cole and Dorian trailing behind him, he joined them in the living room, sinking onto the couch across from the little coffee table.

It was a merry evening, Cassandra and Gordon staging a little fight in the living room until Avisignis called them to the kitchen. Solas talked a bit about his education when Gordon asked him over, admitting that he’d spent a few years at an academy for magic users. He attempted to demonstrate by freezing the water in his glass and it was only Avisignis’ reflexes that saved the others from the flying shards of glass, when she pushed the glass off the table the very second it was about to explode. Solas apologised, his voice small all of a sudden but quickly got over his initial guilt, when Gordon clasped a hand over his shoulder telling him that he was very talented and Cole tugged at his sleeve, begging him to do it again. Even Cassandra admitted that it was pretty cool but before the praise escalated in more broken glasses, Avisignis chased them all out of the kitchen.

She hurried to clean up the broken glass, stacking the used dishes in the sink before she brought out the cake. A glance at the clock over the counter reassured her that it was still about four hours until midnight. The kids had huddled in the living room again, playing a board game that Gordon had introduced and that was completely forgotten once they spotted the cake in her hands. Soon, the coffee table was covered in crumbs and everyone was munching happily. They spent the rest of the time until midnight watching funny clips on the Telly. Once the countdown began, Avisignis enlisted Solas’ help to bring out apple juice for the children and two glasses of champagne for Gordon and her.

The countdown was chanted loudly as six voices joined in, the happy cries of ‘Happy First Day!’ filling the mansion and echoing off the old walls. Avisignis gave each of her children a tight hug, hesitating for a moment when she got to Solas but to her complete surprise, the boy reached out first, wrapping his arms around her waist before quickly letting go again. Quietly, she promised that this year would bring all of them happiness and she hoped that they would be together for many First Days to come.

A few hours later, things had settled down. She’d just tucked in Dorian and Cassandra, shown Solas her room and the bed that he would sleep in until he’d have one for his own. Downstairs in the living room she found Gordon on the couch with Cole on his lap, sleeping soundly. Gently, she picked the youngest of her children up in her arms.

“I should go.” Gordon mumbled, the champagne slurring his words just the tiniest bit, as he got up from the couch. For a little moment she was tempted to ask him to stay just for a little while longer but she held her tongue.

Instead she accompanied him to the door, Cole still in her arms, not bothered by the movement. He was already out of the door, when he turned around again, his eyes lingering on her face for a moment and Avisignis found herself unable to find anything to say. She didn’t move when he stepped closer, didn’t back off as her instincts ordered her. The silence fell around them like the sheets she’d slept on during her time with the Lavellan clan, torn and tattered and stifling. “Gordon…” She started but when his hand came up to touch her cheek, her sentence broke, leaving her with nothing else but the conflicting desires to lean in and turn around to flee into the safety of her home.

When she didn’t move, he did, his lips brushing over hers for just an instant and before she knew it, she’d tilted her head the slightest bit and kissed him back. A chaste kiss, lingering only for a heartbeat. He apologised when he stepped back and she didn’t say anything in return.

Only when he’d already disappeared into the falling snow, the words fell from her mouth. “Good night.”

 


	6. Chapter Five aka Josephine and Leliana

 

Chapter Five

 

They didn’t talk about the kiss afterwards. If it weren’t for the lingering gazes and the half smiles that he gave her whenever he came over for dinner or when she had to ask him to drive Cassandra to training, she’d thought he’d forgotten all about it. Avisignis didn’t know what to think of it. On one hand she felt the desire to know his eyes on her, knowing that she craved the intimacy. On the other hand she was scared. She didn’t want to lose him as a friend and advisor who had her back through everything. They shared a past, shared memories that were stained with blood and death and that neither of them wanted to venture into. They were both broken in a way that would only leave them scarred if they tried to take this any further. He knew it too, it was an unspoken agreement between the both of them and yet, despite all of this in the silent hours of the night, when the kids were already in bed and she was writing her story about the doomed romance of the rogue and the Knight-Commander she had fallen in love with, her body was yearning for the touch of his strong hands.

She locked the thoughts away. She had other things to worry about. Solas had started to get used to living in the mansion, busy with his schoolwork and every now and then helping Dorian with his studies of magic. He’d been accepted and, after a while when he had apparently realised that his know-it-all attitude got him nowhere with the other kids, he’d mostly abandoned that too. Against all of Avisignis’ fears, he fit right in with their strange little family. He’d even told her about his past once, when it was just the both of them at the kitchen table, the soft hum of the radio in the background and a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. He’d told her how he’d grown up with his parents, away from the other elves, hiding from something Solas had not understood back then because he’d been too young. They’d been running, possibly from their own pasts, from their clans, from those who wanted to do them harm. That had been before they had left him at the academy in Val Royeaux, had told him that it was better this way before they’d left to Maker knows where to find their own happiness. He’d waited, had hoped that they would return but when it was apparent that they wouldn’t he’d run. But he hadn’t gotten far, just past the city gate before the guard had picked him up to bring him to the orphanage.

It had hurt to listen to his story, had reminded her too much of her own. Though it was inherently different, he was still more like her than any of the others. She’d hugged him, had held him while he’d softly cried into her shoulder. Afterwards, he hadn’t looked her in the eye, too embarrassed about his own weakness but when she hadn’t said another word about it, he’d found back to his hesitant cheer again, this time truly settling in Skyhold. Most afternoons he spent in the library, reading whatever he found and when she’d asked him if he wanted anything else, anything on a specific topic, he’d admitted that he’d like to read more about the Dalish, about the old elves and the elven gods.

She’d taken him to Haven, to the bookstores and he’d picked out whatever he fancied, always asking three times if it was really alright to buy it. It had made him happy, she’d seen it in the light in his eyes, the way his thin hands had clutched the books to his chest on the way home and it had taken a weight of her heart that she hadn’t known to be there.

 

The phone call came a few days after she’d finished the first novel in her new series. A breath-taking cliff-hanger, following the young hero’s flight from a burning city. She’d left everything behind, her home, her friends and the Knight-Commander she had given her heart to. Now she was only waiting for Vivienne’s reaction, hoping that her publisher wouldn’t have too much to criticise. She half expected it to be the Madame De Fer when she saw the unknown number on her display but another, familiar, voice greeted her as she picked up the call.

“Messere Pentaghast?” The Sister from the orphanage in Val Royeaux asked carefully.

Avisignis wondered for just a little moment how the woman got her number, a flicker of fear crossing her mind before she remembered that it was on all of the adoption papers. “Speaking, what is it?”

She didn’t mean to sound so harsh and immediately regretted it, when the Sister rambled on, her voice filled with something that could either be shame or intimidation. “Aah I apologise, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, if I am interrupting you. I am very sorry for calling just like that, please forgive me.”

With a sigh, she rubbed a hand over her face. She was tired, too much work and not enough sleep over the last days had led to an exhaustion that she only hid for the children’s sake. “It’s alright. What is it, is there something wrong with the papers?”

“No, no, everything is fine with the papers. I am calling for another reason. I deeply regret that I have to ask this from you and I assure you if it was not extremely urgent I wouldn’t call you at all. I know I can hardly ask this for you, you have done so much good for the children already and you must have so much work on your hand with yours already, but…”

Avisignis was tempted to tell her to get to the point but she’d come to like the young woman, despite her constant babbling, so she didn’t. With her free hand, she picked up her coffee, taking a long sip and bracing herself for whatever was to come.

The Sister took a moment to breathe, before she rambled on: “It is just that we have this new kid and she’s, well, she’s in a wheelchair because of the accident that took her parents, may they rest in peace by the Maker’s side, and the orphanage is old so we have too many steps and every room has that little bump in the doorframe and it’s a pain for her to get anywhere.” Another deep breath that ended a way too long sentence. “Now we can’t always be there to carry her around and frankly she hates it as well, she’s so embarrassed and she can’t come to terms with her disability yet. We’d hoped someone would adopt her, after all she’s Orlesian and from an old family as well but it’s her disability… she doesn’t look good in court like this. Not that I think that way, I think she’s a wonderful child, but you know how people are. They’re too preoccupied with appearances and all that. Anyway, we can’t care for her here and she’s still so young, we’d have to send it somewhere else, Maker knows if we even find someplace that will be better for her with her wheelchair. And I thought to ask you…”

“You want me to adopt her.” Avisignis wasn’t sure if she should feel honoured. In any case she couldn’t help the surge of pity in her heart when she heard about the young girl’s fate, thinking that it must be beyond hard for her to adapt to something as demanding as a life without the use of her legs if she didn’t have a place that accepted her and that was suited for her needs.

“If you will. I know you would be able to care for her, you have shown that you love the other children so much and they seem so happy when you’re with them. I wish every child had a family like yours.” The Sister’s voice was small when she answered but not without hope. A hope that the Dalish wasn’t sure she shared. Her house wasn’t exactly suited for a wheelchair either. Beginning with the steps in front of the doors, to the staircase that led up to the rooms from the foyer… It would mean a lot of work and renovations to make it more suitable. She remembered the money the Pentaghasts had left for her, in the hopes of her doing some good with it. They would love this, she was sure, the thought of their house becoming a sanctuary for those who needed it.

Another sigh fell from her lips, defeat and resignation wrapped in one. How glad was she that she had a job where she could work from home. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for so much responsibility, sometimes she struggled to be enough for the children she had already, wondering if they heard her scream in her dreams, if they noticed the cold sweat that sometimes glued her clothes to her skin in the morning, when she snuck into the shower. If they had, they’d never lost a word about it. “I can come to Val Royeaux on Friday. Tell her to pack her things, I don’t have too much time”

 

She needed a bigger car. The thought crossed her mind when she dressed on Friday morning, making sure that Cassandra, Dorian and Solas were all set for school and then handing Cole his little backpack that she’d packed with his lunch and his favourite book. It was only another two months until he’d start going to school too and she wasn’t entirely sure who was more excited about it, him or herself.

The Sister was waiting for her at the train station, the smile on her face wide and welcoming and Avisignis wondered if she’d really found a friend in this woman. It sure seemed so, from the way she was wrapped in a hug as soon as she stepped off the train. With Cole at her hand, they walked the way to the Orphanage, while the Sister kept going on about how grateful she was that Avisignis had been kind enough to take Josephine in as well. Even though it was not that early in the morning, the city was still wrapped in a thick fog and the cold air bit mercilessly at their faces until the warmth of the building finally embraced them.

Josephine was too thin for her eleven years and her delicate hands were clinging to the arm rests of the wheelchair. It was obvious on her face that she was scared, her dark eyes wide and taking in every inch of Avisignis’ form. Still, she politely offered a hand when she was introduced, her high voice smooth and trained for talking. “I thank you for coming here.” The young girl said and Avisignis found herself momentarily surprised by the eloquence. “It is very kind indeed to offer to take me in. Yet I am afraid it will not work out.

The Sister gasped, staring at Josephine like she’d gone mad. “Josephine! You can’t refuse this, you know it’s the best for you!”

The dark skinned girl tilted her head, eyes straying for a second only away from Avisignis’ face and to that of the Sister. But her tone was resolute and there was no hesitation or weakness in her face despite the fear that was still evident in her eyes. “I apologise, Sister but there is someone I cannot leave in this place. She has been with me all this time, taking great care of me and I could not bear being separated from her.” Avisignis wondered for a moment when she would break, when those perfectly trained words would fall from her lips and instead she would talk like the person she really was. The Dalish had seen too many of her kind, children and adults alike and she knew that there was more behind those words. Another part of her whispered that she was too young to talk like that, that she had been forced into this with no regards of what it would do to her. She’d seen the results, they were all over Val Royeaux’ streets.

Almost as though she’d heard her clue – she probably had been listening outside of the office door – another young girl slipped into the room. Her pale face was covered with freckles and framed with unruly red hair and her eyes were hard as steel. The sight sent a shiver through Avisignis’ body, reminding her so much of her sisters at the Lavellan clan, of herself at that age. Josephine’s lips widened into an honest smile and she waved, the presence of the other child alone comforting her enough to give up her rigid posture and sink into her wheelchair.

The Sister was obviously too shocked to say anything, despair pooling in the premature lines around her mouth. Avisignis wasn’t sure if she should be amused by the entire scenario or annoyed that she’d been called all the way here to witness it. She wondered if the Sister had simply not talked to Josephine prior to her visit or if it was indeed a scheme the children came up with, to jump her like that. There was indeed a hint of mirth in the redhead’s eyes, as she joined them, stepping close to Josephine and taking her hands. For a moment they did look like children their age, clinging to each other in the face of something unknown and frightening.

Josephine looked up at her and the smile was still on her lips. It suited her so much better than the polite curl of her mouth before. “Messere Pentaghast, this is Leliana. She is my friend and I would call her my sister if she was from the same blood.”

“You don’t need blood to call her your sister.” The words slipped from her lips before she could catch them and she regretted them immediately, not because they, in themselves, were wrong but because they were something that had been drilled into her head when she’d been young. _Bound not by blood but by death. Sisters in mind and not in body. A blade in the darkness._ She shook her head, trying to fight off the cold that seeped into her body at the sound of her own voice in her head. Cole who had been sitting quietly next to her all this time, reached out and squeezed her hand. He could feel her pain and a wave of shame washed over her. She didn’t mean to burden him with this.

The Sister seemed to have noticed her strange reaction, though she obviously thought it was because of the girls. “I beg your forgiveness, Messere, I was not informed about this. I will of course not ask anything else from you but what you already agreed to. I will talk to the girls, I am sure there is a solution…”

Avisignis waved her hand, motioning for her to stop apologising. She eyed the two girls for a moment, their joint hands and the strength that radiated off them that she wished she’d had when she’d been young and insecure like them. “Do you want to come with me?” She asked and the question was not directed at Josephine but at the both of them.

For a moment the façade fell away, showing off the real Josephine and the surprise was so great that she didn’t know what to say. It was Leliana who answered in her stead. “If you will have us.” And the smile that grazed her lips was not cold at all.

Avisignis returned it, exhausted and still a bit out of her depths but honestly. Like a wedding vow, she thought as the words crossed her mind that she wouldn’t speak out. _I vow to love you and care for you in good times and in bad times, if you will take my hand I will hold yours and never let go._ Instead she said: “We’re a terribly nice family. I’m sure you will fit right in.”

 

With the renovations still going on the house looked like a mess when they got there but at least the lift was working and for a little moment Avisignis saw a look of pure awe in Josephine’s face when Leliana pushed her chair through the wide lobby. Turning her head, the girl looked up at her and there were tears glinting in the corners of her eyes. “You did all this… for me?”

For a second she was overwhelmed herself, by this display of emotion, by the gratefulness in her new daughter’s face, then she smiled and nodded her head. There were no words she could’ve said in this moment, nothing that was befitting of the situation so she just didn’t. Instead she led the two of them into the kitchen that was thankfully spared from the works and prepared hot chocolate for the two before sitting down at the table. Calmly she explained the family to them, told them about Cole and Dorian and Cassandra and Solas and how the four of them were the loveliest children she’d ever met and how they’d surely welcome their new siblings warmly. She admitted that she’d already prepared a room for Josephine but it’d be no bother at all to have one ready for Leliana as well and that there was really another room in the east wing that was connected to Josephine’s with a door so they’d be right next to each other. With every word she saw Josephine’s eyes getting wider and even Leliana who had seemed so calm and composed, cold even, couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. They’d have to share two bathrooms with the others in the wing as the only room with a separate bath was the master bedroom and when she asked if that would be a problem, Josephine hurried to shake her head.

“Pentaghast.” She finally said, lost in thought for a little while before she looked up again and the smile on her lips was enough to reassure Avisignis that they would indeed fit right in with their little family. “It’s a good name. I am proud to call it my own.”

I know the sentiment, she wanted to say but she didn’t. She’d once been not worthy of the name and they’d still let her take it as her own. Now she thought, that maybe she’d finally earned it. Before she could give the nostalgic thought any more mind, a choir of loud voices interrupted her and when she headed for the kitchen door, she found that Cassandra and Dorian were bouncing through the hallway, their muddy feet leaving tracks on the marble floor and their excited chattering enough to fill the hall. Cole had joined them, coming down from the attic he’d disappeared to once they’d arrived. For a second Avisignis found worry blooming in her chest but it was eased immediately, when the three of them entered the kitchen and, after a little moment of surprise, approached their new siblings.

Cassandra immediately took to them, the feeling like she had to protect them, even though they were older, radiating off her. She wrapped her arms around Josephine first, planting a kiss on her cheek and then moved to do the same with Leliana. Dorian was a bit more hesitant but he soon struck up a conversation with Leliana about how amazing her dress looked because Dorian loved beautiful things.

“She’s a good mum.” Cassandra finally said to the two girls, her face filled with pride and firm belief. “No, she’s the best mum. You’ll love her.” It was the first time she’d called her that and, when the children weren’t looking, her fingers inched towards her own cheek to wipe away a stray tear that had fled from her treacherous eyes.

 


	7. Chapter Six aka the Iron Bull

 

Chapter Six

 

_The blood was rushing in her ears. Her heart pounding hard enough to make her chest ache. Hands shaking she clutched the knife, gripping it tightly enough for her knuckles to shine through her pale skin. Through the storm in her head she could barely hear the roaring voices around her, the cheers and cries of encouragement, the serious words of the Keeper. She didn’t see the shining metal bars of the cage glint in the cold light that illuminated the basement, didn’t feel the cold of the stone floor seeping into her body through her bare feet. Her clothes clung to her body, sweat and blood alike, the scent acidic in her nose. Her world had shrunk to one single point, to the knife in her hand, the metallic taste on her lips._

_“No!” She’d cried, retreating towards the bars. “Please, you can’t make us do this!” But the Keeper had only shaken her head, eyes like steel focusing on her face. Live or die. Be worthy of your name or give up. Prove what you’re worth, prove that the training has paid off. She didn’t care anymore, the cause for her fight didn’t matter and all she could feel was the desire to taste it again, to feel the exhilarating rush of power surge through her veins._

_She moved quickly; her body reacting before her mind could catch up with what was happening. The eyes of her sister were staring at her, widened in fear and pain, the lips opened in a silent plea. She didn’t hesitate, her heart not swaying when she buried the knife in that too delicate chest, when she pulled it out, only to shove it back in. Again and again, until the handle of the knife was too slippery from the blood to hold onto it. Only then did she let go, her head spinning, as she stumbled backwards. Away, she needed to get away from the cold eyes, the emptiness. The girl’s body crumbled, collapsed on the floor, her little hands reaching out in a last attempt to plead for mercy. She’d been only a year older than her, too young to die, too young for any of this. She felt the cold air wrap around her, sink through the thin clothes she was wearing but she couldn’t find the strength to tear her eyes away from the dead girl to her feet. Legs no longer working, she fell backwards, her back hitting the ground as she crawled._

_Away. She had to get away._

_There were bars pressing against her back, cold metal, encaging her, smothering her._

_Hands. Hands on her shoulders, in her hair. Lips pressed to her ears, whispering ‘well done’ into her mind, congratulating her on her first kill, her first_ murder. _“It won’t be the last.” The voices promised, disgust like sugar sweet dripping from their tongues. “This is what you are, what you were meant to be. This is what you will always be.”_

_The cry that wrung itself from her throat resonated in her bones. Desperately, she tried to fight off the hands, tried to sink further into the shadows. Away. Away! She had to get away!_

She surged upwards, trembling hands reaching out for something in the dark. But there was nothing, only the cry on her lips that she hurried to muffle with her hands. Cold sweat glued her hair to her face, her clothes to her skin. It took her a minute to realise where she was, even longer to know that she was _safe_. But the feeling stayed, the feeling that there was something hunting her, something watching her from the darkened corners of the room. Her feet were too loud on the floor, too loud, the Keeper would reprimand her for making so much noise. Stumbling away from the bed as soon as she had managed to free herself from the constricting sheets, she hurried towards the door.

There was blood on her hands when she reached for the door handle, fresh, sticky blood. The sight made her stomach revolt and her knees buckle beneath her. Gasping, she sank down to the ground, frantically wiping the hands against her nightdress but the blood wouldn’t come off. Closing her eyes, she leant her forehead against the door, lips moving silently, praying. Avisignis was begging for it to go away, the visions and the emotions surging in her chest alike. The memories that threatened to drown her. She prayed that the kids hadn’t heard, that they were still fast asleep in their beds. She tried to focus on that, on the children she called her own.

Over a year ago had she adopted Cole. He was going to school now, doing well, enthusiastic about everything he learnt. Dorian, Dorian was doing great as well, sure, he’d have a lot to learn before he had his magic under control, but he loved his studies. Cassandra had partaken in her first tournament a few weeks ago, not winning first prize but third and she had practically radiated pride when she’d brought the golden medal over to her family to show off. Solas had recently discovered his love for ancient elven language and lore and, though she didn’t know anything at all about the topic, he was always happy to tell her about the things they’d learnt in class. Josephine and Leliana had started to call Skyhold their home. Leliana was more of a quiet girl, not as talkative as Josephine or Cassandra but she was particularly interested in anything and everything. And if there was a secret, she always found out about it before anyone else did. Josephine had started to loosen up, no longer speaking in that forced manner that she’d no doubt been taught in her previous home. Though they still had not quite settled in their place in this little family Avisignis was sure they would. They were such lovely children and, though she was still so sure that she didn’t deserve them or their love, she wouldn’t give them up for anything.

With her pulse calming down a bit and her breath steadying, she blinked. There was no blood, just her pale, trembling fingers. A sigh fell from her lips, as she climbed to her feet. It had been the second nightmare in four days. She knew she could handle them, knew that it was because _that day_ was closing in on her but the fear that she was pushing the weight that was hers to carry on her children gnawed at her heart. Wrung out as she was, she was wobbling on her feet, as she climbed down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Instinctively she reached for the kettle, the cup with the teabag already waiting for her on the table because she’d known in advance that the night was going to be rough. If only she could convince her mind that the past was behind her, if she could chase away the nightmares like she had the annoying habit to lock the door four times upon coming home.

Her hands found themselves reaching for her mobile before she’d even commanded them to and though she considered calling Hawke for a little moment, she dialled a different number. Hawke was busy, she had enough on her hands as the new Viscount of Kirkwall, enough to do with the Mages and the Templars and their endless political war and the romance that she’d taken six years to discover and that she now desperately tried to build up.

“Avisignis?” The dark voice at the other end of the line rasped, concern obvious in the words. “Are you alright? Is something wrong with the kids?” As though his concern had broken a dam inside her chest, she found herself weeping, tears for the first time in years trailing down her cheeks, as she sunk into the kitchen chair. Her free hand gripped the edge of the table, tightly, because if she didn’t hold onto something else, she’d see the knife again. The blade glinted in the pale light, glaring at her and whispering sweet promises into her head.

She pushed the thought aside, violently rubbing a hand over her face before she attempted to answer. Her voice was wrecked with the tremors of the sobs that still crawled up her throat. “I- I had another nightmare.” It sounded so childish, so immature from her lips and for a moment she felt pathetic for not being able to escape her night terrors on her own.

Gordon didn’t ask anything else. He didn’t tell her how weak she was, how worthless. “Hang on, I’ll be there in a minute.” Was all he said and in the background she could already hear the rustling of clothes. “I can stay on the line if you need to talk.”

Avisignis nodded and then realised that he wouldn’t be able to see it, so she said: “It’s alright. Thank you.”

She hung up before her weakness could force her to actually beg for him to hurry.

He was there before she could finish her first cup of tea. She heard the tires of his car on the gravel of the driveway and then the door falling shut. He had a key for the front door, she’d given it to him only two months ago because he was over often enough anyway and he looked after the kids whenever she was away for a few hours so it made more sense for him to have a key than not. His steps were quiet in the hallway and if she’d almost forgotten what he had once been before he came to this place, his footsteps reminded her painfully. She couldn’t help flinching, when he entered, his eyes immediately on her face. Avisignis knew what he was seeing, knew that he took in the obvious signs of her downfall: The dark shadows under her eyes, the lines around her mouth, the pale skin and the glistening of sweat on her forehead. She probably looked like shit. Eyes dropping away from him, she stared into her cup again, not finding the words to thank him for being there with her.

Gordon didn’t say a word when she started trembling again, when the tears started trailing down her cheeks again like they were trying to taunt her. At some point he picked her up, carrying her over to the living room. Like a child he held her in his arms, rocking her softly as she buried her face in his shoulder and tried not to give in to the shivers that wrecked her body. The words falling from her lips were a garbled nonsense, memories and reality mixing together, as she tried to explain what was on her mind but couldn’t find the strength to describe the images. The knife. The knife in her hand. The blood. The eyes, widened in fear. The hand on her shoulder. The voice congratulating her. Congratulating her on murdering a girl who had not been older than fifteen. Had not found happiness. Cold. Empty. Dead.

 _“Remember this. Remember who you are.”_ The keeper had said and she remembered. After a while she found that she was calming down again, his presence and his strong arms steadying her, keeping her in the now. Weakly, she sunk into his arms, breathing in the familiar scent and letting his warmth wash over her. It should’ve been comfortable, should’ve taken the weight off her heart and yet there were still the voices at the back of her head, screaming at her. It was her who kissed him this time, her lips almost desperately pressing against his. His arms tightened around her, holding her against his chest, as he leant in. For a moment it was enough, for a few blissful seconds the voices were silenced and her head was filled with the sensations of his mouth on hers, his beard scratching her chin. Then his hand brushed over her shoulder and over the scar that was still there, hidden underneath her nightclothes and she gasped. The bullet. The phantom pain pierced her arm and she railed back, hands scrambling against his chest, as she almost fell off his lap so urgently did she need to get away.

She was on her feet before she knew it. Retreating, one careful step after the other, her wide eyes fixed on the man she trusted, the man who was her friend. But his face was wrong. His face belonged to a man she knew from long ago, the mad grin spreading over his lips belonged to a man who was no better than her, a murderer, torturer, cold blooded and cruel. There was blood on his lips, dripping from his mouth and she felt the sickness rising in her stomach again. “I’m sorry.” She choked out and then she turned around and fled. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door, staring at herself in the mirror for a second or two, then she fell to her knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

Panting, she finally sat back, wiping her mouth and staring at her fingers in disgust. The silence in the hallway outside didn’t concern her. There had been footsteps a few moments ago, approaching the bathroom door and then leaving again, down the hallway. Gordon had left. She knew it. She’d heard the keys jingle and then the doors fall shut.

Avisignis was left with the cold and the thoughts that were still rushing through her head. Without looking at her reflection again, she finally dragged herself into the shower, knowing that it was only hours before she’d have to wake up the kids. Just another school day, she told herself. Two weeks left until the anniversary of her death. Things would get better, she promised herself, as she scrubbed her skin until it was pink and raw. Things would go back to normal after that day.

 

And for a while they actually did.

 

If Avisignis wrote Hawke that Josephine and Leliana would surely be the last additions to her family, she had surely believed it to be true. It was only that apparently, her life had a strange habit of not following whatever expectations she held. How she always ended up in these situations, she really couldn’t fathom. It was only a few weeks before Summerday, the holiday that all of Orlais seemed to love above all else. Kirkwall had never been much about celebrating, too serious and too busy with its own affairs to care much and the only day that Avisignis truly remembered as being of importance had been Satinalia. The one day that was not tainted with blood, when even the thieves and assassins would rest. How surprised had she been, when Hawke had sent her a present for her first Satinalia outside of Kirkwall, when she’d still struggled to find a life for herself in the too big mansion and far away from everything she knew. The little package had been wrapped in red paper and inside she found a little wooden bird, shaped vaguely after the firebird she was named after. She’d felt guilty for not having a present for her friend but Hawke had reassured her that she didn’t expect anything back.

This Summerday would be different, with the children learning about it in school and excitedly looking forward to celebrating. She’d invited Hawke months ago and the woman had soon agreed to come, at the same time promising – or threatening – to bring along the whole Kirkwall gang, as she called her ragtag group of friends. It would be more than just a little bit lively, Avisignis thought and she was so busy planning and breaking her head over the logistics that she didn’t even realise just how quickly the time passed.

Feeling like the worst hypocrite to ever set foot on this world, she found herself in Val Royeaux again. She had shopping to do, not only for the celebrations but also for a few necessities that the kids needed. She’d found what had to be Dorian’s last clean sock the other day and promptly thrown it away because once she’d turned it around she’d found the gaping hole he’d accidentally burnt into it. Cassandra needed a few new t-shirts, she’d torn some of them badly enough that elven nimble elven fingers couldn’t mend them anymore. She’d decided long ago to get Cole a new hat because the old one was not only dirty but also falling apart at the seams. It shouldn’t be too hard to find one, she figured, the only requirements were that it had to be ugly and big.

Solas needed a staff. He was old enough to use his own and with his birthday coming up soon, she’d decided to pick one up for him. It was a special occasion, she knew so it had to be something suitable. Elegant and not too powerful, after all he was turning thirteen and was still far away from being a fully trained mage. Josephine had quietly asked for more ink for her drawings. She’d tried the ink they’d gotten at Haven but she’d hated it. Leliana wanted a raven. A live raven. And that was probably the only wish Avisignis wasn’t trying to fulfil because though she did believe the mansion’s attic would be suited for a pet raven, she wasn’t quite sure what an eleven year old would want with one.

She found a little plush raven though and thinking that it would have to do for now, she bought it. It had to be some sort of instinct that had brought her back to the orphanage. Having taken the car, she had all the time in the world as long as she was back for dinner and she figured it couldn’t hurt to say hello to Sister Elisabeth. The woman had truly turned out to be a friend, even stopping by Skyhold once or twice in the last months to see how the kids were doing and admiring the finished renovations. The building was buzzing with activity, the noise of voices and laughter embracing her as she stepped through the door. She could never quite shake the feeling of nostalgia that overcame her, when she visited this place. It made her see things differently, made the colourful walls turn grey, the curious looks hostile and the windows narrow. The place wasn’t so bad, she had to admit, it just made her feel like she was walking right back into a cage that she’d only escaped from. The feeling was worse now, settling on her shoulders like a heavy weight and she almost about to turn on her heel and leave before she even properly entered, when the voice of Sister Elisabeth distracted her.

The woman was smiling widely, pulling Avisignis into a hug that had her body stiffen instinctively. She forced herself to relax, quickly wrapping her arms around the woman in return. Green eyes mustered her thoroughly when the Sister pulled back and then she was grabbed by the hand and led to the office. “Coffee or tea?” Tea, she replied and a few minutes later she was set up at the table, the teacup in hand and an avidly chatting _friend_ next to her. It was strange to be welcomed like this but then again, Hawke’s unconditional friendship had been strange in the beginning too. Her thoughts strayed back to Kirkwall, to the family she’d been offered there and that she wasn’t quite sure she was part of. For Hawke it was clear that Avisignis belonged to them, Varric and Anders too maybe but the others. The guard captain, Aveline, had never liked her very much, not after finding out about her ex-profession. Merill had accepted her immediately as another Dalish and someone who had lived in the Alienage. She’d never gotten around to trying to befriend Fenris and Isabela had told her that it was impossible for anyone but Hawke to gain his trust anyway. And then there was Isabela of course, the gorgeous pirate that Avisignis had found herself crushing on quite badly for the few days she’d spent in her company.

“…and then we told him to stop but he wouldn’t, just kept beating the poor kid. It was horrible. I mean it surely wasn’t his fault, it’s the fault of these people… not to say that all of them are bad but I don’t trust them. They don’t teach their children what we teach ours.”

Avisignis looked up and realised that she’d been spacing out, only having caught the last bit of the conversation. “Uh-huh. It is indeed terrible.” She muttered, taking a sip of her tea. She was about to return to her thoughts, when Elisabeth cocked her head a bit, indicating that she’d gotten an idea.

“You’ve lived in Kirkwall, right?” Avisignis faltered, her heart skipping a beat and she almost coughed on her tea.

Putting the cup back down before she dropped it, she asked hoarsely: “How did you know?” Because no one was supposed to know. No one could know!

The Sister shrugged, something that was not at all friendly and warm flashing over her face for just a little moment, before she smiled again. “I heard it in your accent. You must have spent some time there. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I know how it is with these family names.” She winked and Avisignis found herself relaxing. If the woman thought it was all about her heritage and name as a Pentaghast, then the knowledge she had was entirely based on assumptions. Nothing that would immediately endanger her. “Anyway, you have a lot of Qunari in Kirkwall, right? Maybe you know how they do things? Or you know someone who wouldn’t mind taking in a little boy? He really isn’t suited to stay here and I wouldn’t want to give him to the guard. In the end they’ll send him to the military or worse, the Grey Wardens.”

She should’ve known. She should’ve known that the second she laid eyes on the boy who was not as little as the Sister made him out to be – he was only nine but his eyes were already on one level with her breasts – she’d feel that instinct pulling at her heart again. The Qunari boy refused to look at her, moping in that room he’d been sent to because he’d beaten up a few of the other kids. Avisignis found herself half impressed, half unsure what to do because on one hand the kid had taken on others that had been taller and older than him and won and on the other hand she’d never had to deal with anything like this. The Sister was hopeful, the Dalish could feel her gaze lingering on her back when she sat down.

“What’s your name?” She asked gently and the glare that was directed at her, was cold as ice.

“Why should I tell you?” He growled and it would’ve been impressive if he wasn’t nine years old and with a pronounced pout on his face that made him look more adorable than intimidating.

Avisignis shrugged. “I just want to know. I’ll trade mine for yours, if you want. It’s pretty cool though, my name, it has to do with a bird.”

He perked up at that, suddenly a lot more interested than before. “A bird? My name has to do with an animal too!”

A smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she leaned forward and motioned for him to do the same. “It’s Avisignis.” She whispered, like it was the greatest secret on this side of the Waking Sea. “It means Firebird. Pretty cool, right?”

The boy contemplated it for a moment, then he nodded slowly. “It sounds dangerous. I like it.” He still hesitated though, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before he finally said: “My name is Iron Bull.” A look of proud defiance settled on his face but laced with fearful anticipation, as though he was expecting her to break into laughter.

Avisignis frowned for a moment, pretending to think about it hard before she too, gave a little nod. “That sounds even more dangerous.” She admitted finally, doing her best to keep up the serious expression despite the smile her lips wanted to curl into. “Very dangerous. And strong. A very good name indeed.”

The Iron Bull’s lips pulled into a full blown grin and before she knew it, he hugged her tightly. Once she tried to return the gesture though, he hurried to step back, embarrassment settling on his cheeks in a light blush. Frowning, he looked up at her and then the pout returned, as he went back to his chair with another word. Avisignis raised an eyebrow, not moving from where he sat next to him. “You don’t seem very happy.” She stated and he shrugged.

“You’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at my name or tells me that it can’t be my real name.” He said quietly, eying her for a moment before he added: “I want to go with you.” It was so honest and direct that it took her several minutes to come up with something to reply.

Once again she thought that she really should’ve known it. A sigh fell from her lips. She had to resist this urge, really, it was in no way fair for anyone if she kept giving in. And here he was, asking her and of course she couldn’t say no, not when he was miserable and an outcast and even in this place that was kind to most children, he felt isolated and alone. He’d grow up to be violent and bitter if he’s forced to stay here, she told herself. Her lips finally curled into the smile she’d been holding back. “If you’re really sure about this, I see no reason for you to pout. My family isn’t that horrible.”

It took him a moment before he understood what she meant and then he was on his feet and the grin on his face was wide enough, it surely would’ve reached his horns had his mouth just been a tiny bit bigger.

 


	8. Chapter Seven aka Sera

 

Chapter Seven

 

The Summerday celebration came and passed and even though Hawke and her friends had only stayed for a few days, it had felt good to have no more empty rooms or vacated hallways. For almost a week the mansion had been filled with laughter and chatter, interrupted only by the very loud game the kids had played when they hadn’t been busy chasing each other around the grounds. Stories had been told, old memories shared. Like a big family, Avisignis had thought as she’d watched Hawke tease Cassandra about something she’d said. Varric had been ever at her side, hand stroking the Champion’s knee under the table and the ‘I told you so’ was burning on the Dalish’s tongue. They had looked happy and they deserved it, their small piece of happiness. After having been through so much they needed rest, Avisignis had considered asking them to stay, not just for a week but for longer. The mansion was big enough and she’d seen how cheerful Hawke was around the children. Despite all of her nagging she made for an amazing godmother. In the end she hadn’t, knowing that Hawke would never accept. She needed Kirkwall as much as Kirkwall needed her.

Cole had taken Anders with him to visit the neighbour’s cats and ever since then the two had been happily petting the cat on his lap, their expression content. Fenris and Isabela had quickly disappeared inside, probably either to visit the library, the elf had been so interested in or to do something a lot less innocent. Not that she had particularly minded as long as they’d stayed away from the kids’ bedrooms. Solas and Dorian had been busy trying out the magic tricks Merrill had showed them, the Iron Bull watching them incredulously. He’d barely left Dorian’s side ever since the boy from Tevinter had declared that he liked his name and it was obvious that the two adored each other. The rest of the kids had disappeared into their HQ in the attic to play whatever new game they’d come up with. Even Gordon had been there, every now and then chatting with Hawke even though her distrust of him had been more than obvious.

Avisignis had been watching them all, a strange feeling of happiness and maybe nostalgia tugging at her chest that she hadn’t been able to place. After a while Hawke had waved at her, motioning for her to come over and with a sincere smile playing on her lips, she’d joined them. Only then, when she’d been welcomed in that circle of old friends and new friends and with Cole’s arms wrapped around her, she’d realised that this was indeed her world now. A world that she’d created for herself and that she wouldn’t let anyone take away from her.

 

Solas loved his new staff. His eyes had widened in surprise at first, then he’d let out a squeak that was not befitting of a thirteen year old at all but with the happiness clearly visible in his expression, not even Cassandra had dared to say something about it. From his birthday on he never went anywhere without the wooden staff, Avisignis was convinced he’d even sleep with it if she would only it.

As for the Iron Bull, he’d taken to Dorian like a man dying of thirst would to water, following the younger boy everywhere. A strange couple it was indeed, given Tevinter and the Qunari were still at war but Avisignis was just glad the two of them got along so well. After all they were still kids, both far from their home countries and they shouldn’t be concerned with politics and conflicts that weren’t theirs to fight. With the Iron Bull being taller than everyone else, he seemed to feel like he had to protect his new siblings. Every now and then Avisignis could notice the pride on the Bull’s face when she dropped the kids off at school and no one dared to throw any of them a second glance. Solas had been the only one to frown at the new kid, obviously not happy about the younger boy being a few centimetres taller than him but they’d gotten along after a while. Cassandra had taken well enough to the Bull, finding someone who was equally adventurous and brave in him. Soon enough the two had struck up a friendship that included getting into trouble and apparently doing the most reckless things they could imagine. Avisignis had had to remind the both of them that the roof was definitely off limits after Cole had said something about the view being amazing from up there.

 

Sister Elisabeth called again, about a month after Summerday to inform her, that not all of the adoption papers were in order and that she _urgently_ needed a few signatures here or there before social services came knocking at her door. So it was back to Val Royeaux again. At this point she’d accepted that she’d never be able to escape that city, as much as she hated it and the people who lived there. It was easy to forget sometimes that she was living in Orlais, with mansion located in the Frostback Mountains close to the border to Ferelden. Whenever she had to visit the capital though, there was no way to stay clear of this culture that she neither understood nor especially liked.

For some reason it was easier to walk the streets of Val Royeaux with the kids trailing after her, a little spark of triumph simmering in her heart. At the same time she had to constantly fight the urge to snarl at everyone who dared to side eye her family. They didn’t need fancy palaces or speeches, no royal balls or audiences and surely she didn’t need to force her kids into becoming the perfect diplomats. While these people were too preoccupied with their names and reputations, all she was striving for was to make her children _happy._ The summer sun mercilessly beat down on them as the whole squad – as she lovingly called them – marched down the wide streets. Kirkwall had always been colder, even with the factories and the constant steam weaving through or maybe because of it, the hot season had never quite bothered her before.

Sister Elisabeth welcomed them with a warm smile and when the kids refused to go play while ‘mummy’ was busy with the paperwork, they all squeezed themselves into the small office. There was another sister there, gently rocking the baby she was holding in her arms and obviously waiting for someone too. With the kids chattering behind her back, Avisignis couldn’t help but glance at the infant, fascinated by the tiny hands and the fluffy, golden curls of their hair. “Her name’s Sera.” The Sister whispered, when she saw Avisignis’ interest and, roused by the words, the babe opened its eyes and suddenly the Dalish was staring into the widest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen. Thin lips formed a little ‘o’ and then pulled into a smile that was probably the most endearing thing she’d ever seen. Only when the babe reached out a hand, trying to grab Avisignis’ hair, she noticed the little pointy ears that identified Sera as one of her kind. For a little moment she wondered if she was simply too young or if she was a city elf for her face was clear and not marked by any of the Dalish tattoos. Not remembering her own clan, Avisignis couldn’t tell at what age she’d gotten hers. It had to have been pretty early though.

She cocked her head a bit, letting the baby tug at the strand of her brown hair that had slipped free of her braid and a soft giggling rung through the room. It attracted the attention of the other children and only seconds later everyone had gathered around the Sister and little Sera, cooing and whispering with awestruck faces. Josephine was probably the most excited, practically begging the Sister to let her hold the little one just once. In the end they all took turns, carefully pressing the baby to their chests. Cole was the only one who didn’t dare to ask but from the tilt of his head and the line of his mouth Avisignis could clearly see how amazed he was at the sight.

“Do you wish to hold her too, messere?” The Sister asked her suddenly and after a second of hesitation, she held out her hands. She’d never held a baby before, had never expected it to be this delicate and light. If anyone else saw how much her hands were trembling, they didn’t mention it. Avisignis was enchanted, unable to tear her eyes away from the little face and the hands that were holding onto her sleeve. Seeing that Sera was blinking a lot, the green of her eyes dimmed with exhaustion, she instinctively started humming under her breath, softly moving her arms in a rocking motion. It was strange and at the same time the easiest thing in the world, happening so naturally that she wondered if it was an instinct that all beings shared.

The smile that was still pulling at little Sera’s lips made her look just like the angels that had been painted on the walls of the Cathedral in Haven. She only noticed how long she’d been holding the infant, when the door clicked shut behind her and Sister Elisabeth fought her way through the little crowd towards her desk. Her gaze dropped to Sera in Avisignis’ arms and the grin on her face was particularly satisfied. The Dalish hurried to hand the baby back to the other Sister and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she missed the warmth against her chest. While the kids once again crowded around the elderly woman, Avisignis hurried to sign all of the required papers.

Sister Elisabeth watched her, a knowing look in her eyes that made Avisignis ever so slightly suspicious. “She’s gorgeous, right?” The woman finally asked, nodding towards the baby. “Such a sweet thing, barely a year old and already on her own. We just hope we can find someone to take her in soon, hopefully someone who can teach her a bit about what it means to be an elf. But it’s rare to find elves in Val Royeaux, you know, apart from the Alienage of course…”

Avisignis glanced up at that, her face instinctively morphing into a grimace. No one in the alienage would take the child in, they either had their hands full with their own offspring or they simply didn’t have the money to care for a little one. She knew first-hand just how poor these people were, she’d been one of them for long enough after all. Somehow she doubted this was all a coincidence, them happening upon Sera in the office and when she eyed Sister Elisabeth for a moment longer, she could see the mischievous glint in the other woman’s eyes. Behind her she could hear Josephine cooing over the baby, completely smitten just like the others. A sigh fell from her lips. She didn’t have the time to tend for a babe, not with seven children and a job that came with deadlines like hers. She wasn’t even sure she’d be capable of caring for someone that young and breakable.

And yet, it was the same instinct that had gotten her into trouble before, the same strange tug at her heartstrings that had her unable to tear her eyes away from the little creature. As though she had seen the doubt in her eyes, she suddenly had Josephine’s hand on her arm. “We’ll all help you. We love her!” It was the most sincere promise out of the mouth of an eleven year old. Avisignis glanced at her children, then at Sister Elisabeth and for some reason she felt as though the decision had already been made without her consent.

“I have the papers here.” The sister chimed in and suddenly all eyes in the room were resting on her. The air was heavy with hopeful expectation.

Another sigh, a last thought of ‘what am I getting myself into’ but then again, it was a fight she’d already lost.

“Give them here.”

 


	9. The Inquisition

 

The Inquisition

 

It was a rainy late summer weekend and mum was working. They had barely seen her all day, holed up in her office and apparently feverishly trying to finish her book in time. Cassandra stared out of the window, watched the heavy drops of rain hit the window and sighed. She wanted to go outside, play in the rain or maybe attempt to climb into the walnut tree but with the branches all wet and slippery it wasn’t such a good idea. She’d been trying a few tricks with the sword earlier but her arms were still sore from training on Friday and she’d soon lost interest in the exercising. Everyone else was lounging around the attic, hidden between the huge cardboard boxes and inside the blanket fort they’d built. Somehow no one could come up with something to do, Solas was brooding over his books again, pretending that he had better things to do than play with them. The board games that were scattered on the floor had only held their interest for a little while. Dorian and the Iron Bull were chatting about something that had happened in school but they too seemed incredibly bored.

Josephine was attempting to teach Leliana how to do that little game with her fingers and a string but they’d already done the same things four times and the enthusiasm they’d shown in the beginning had begun to subside. Even Cole was bored, it was obvious from the way he played with his hat, every now and then jumping to his feet to walk a bit and then sitting down again somewhere else. Sera was downstairs sleeping, as much as Cassandra loved her little sister, she rarely did anything else but eat and sleep. When she did though, she was utterly adorable, blabbering on with the few words she knew and every now and then attempting to stand on her own two feet only to fall down on her butt again.

“We need something to do!” She insisted after a while, watching how everyone looked up at her for a moment, before nodding and mumbling in agreement. But no one could come up with anything. Nothing interesting at least. Sneaking out into the rain wasn’t an option, mummy would get worried. Gordon was apparently busy too and the neighbours’ cats were surely hiding inside. They hated the rain even more than Cassandra did.

Dorian frowned, his little nose scrunched up. “We could invent our own game.” That earned him a positive response but no one had any ideas as to what kind of game they could invent. Cole suggested something with marbles but the groan that echoed through the attic at that was proof enough that the idea wasn’t appreciated.

“That’s boring.” The Bull muttered. “We need something _cool._ ” Everyone agreed with that.

Though what would be cool? Cassandra frowned, running a hand through her short hair. “We could always do something with knights.” And that was just her fall back plan because she loved knights and everyone knew that.

“If there are knights there have to be mages too!” Dorian insisted immediately and at that Solas nodded.

“It would only make sense for there to be mages too. After all the Chantry and the Templars have always coexisted.” Everyone stared at him, mostly because they didn’t exactly understand what ‘coexist’ meant.

But it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that they had at least something now. “So we have knights and mages. But what are we going to do.”

The Bull grinned. “We could fight. Mages against Knights.” But at the offended and slightly hurt look Dorian flashed him, he immediately added: “Of course we can fight together too.”

Solas frowned. “But mages and knights don’t fight together.”

It was Josephine who raised her voice next. “We just need a reason why everyone would fight together. Like an alliance. That’s how things work.”

Cole lifted his head though no one could quite see what kind of expression he made with the hat in the way. “What is an alliance?”

“When two parties agree to work together for some reason. Like when we both want the cookies mummy hides in the jar in the cupboard but we cannot get them by ourselves so we make an alliance and work together until we have the cookies.” Leliana explained.

“But we share the cookies then!”

“Of course we do.” Leliana nodded. “Unless one of us tricks the other.”

Cassandra shook her head. “No tricking. We make an alliance and everyone works together.”

Dorian nodded, obviously engrossed in the idea. “But we need a reason to work together, right? Something that makes us make an alliance.”

Everyone thought about that really hard for a moment, until Solas placed his book on the floor next to him. He was obviously interested enough to forget about his reading. Cassandra watched him and she could practically see the little cogwheels behind his forehead turning. There was an idea on his mind, she knew it, he always had good ideas when he was actually nice enough to share them with the rest of the group. “What are you thinking about, Solas?”

The elf hesitated for a moment, then he shifted a bit more into the middle of their loose circle. Immediately everyone moved closer, excited to hear what the oldest was planning now. “Well, we could be an Inquisition.” He finally said.

The silence that answered him was deafening until someone asked: “What is an Inquisition?”

Solas frowned. “I’m not sure. I saw mummy read a book about it, she didn’t say much but I think it is a special alliance. An alliance of the strongest and best people and they band together to defeat a mighty enemy. Like demons or, or…”

“Dragons!” Cassandra called out as soon as the thought crossed her mind. “We can be a mighty Inquisition and we fight the dragon!”

Josephine tilted her head. “Aunt Hawke has killed dragons before. But she said there were really strong and she only did it with the help of Uncle Anders and Varric and Aunt Aveline.”

It didn’t take them much consideration. There was a plan that each one of them found interesting enough. They had mages and knights and they’d fight together. They felt really smart too to have come up with such a great idea. An alliance. An Inquisition, banded together to fight the dragon!

Suddenly the rainy weekend was no longer as boring as they’d feared. There were preparations to make. They had to turn their Headquarters into a fortress because surely every Inquisition had their own fortress! There were provisions to gather, plans to make and secret missions to go on. Everything that was fun.

 

And so, on a rainy late summer weekend, the Inquisition was born.


	10. Chapter Eight aka The Accident

 

 

**Part Two**

 

 

 _Take my mind and take my pain,_  
_Like an empty bottle takes the rain._  
  
_And heal, heal, heal, heal._  
  
_And take my past and take my sins,_  
_Like an empty sail takes the wind._  
  
_And heal, heal, heal, heal._  
  
_And tell me some things last._  
_And tell me some things last._  
  
_Take my heart and take my hand,_  
_Like an ocean takes the dirty sands._  
_And heal, heal, hell heal!_  
  
_Tom Odell - Heal_

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

_“Forgive me.” She whispered, her hand resting on her lover’s cheek, tenderly, a touch that asked for so much more than just forgiveness. “I can’t fight it any longer.”_

_Words nothing more than a whisper in the darkness of their tent, the Knight-Captain replied: “Then don’t.”_

 

The phone was ringing. The sound carried through the empty hallways, tearing away the comfortable silence that had engulfed the mansion. Fingers still hovering over the keyboard, Avisignis hesitated. She knew that if she stopped writing now, it would take her ages to get back into the mood and the hero had finally overcome her doubts and was willing to give in to her desires. The phone rang again. With a sigh, she saved the document and reached for the phone instead.

She half expected it to be Sister Elisabeth, or Vivienne or someone who was trying to sell her a life insurance or other things she didn’t need.

“Serah Pentaghast? Giselle speaking, I’m your son’s – the Iron Bull’s – homeroom teacher.” Avisignis knew the woman, she’d met her before and she’d always thought that Giselle was a nice person, if a bit quick to judge people. It was the tone in the woman’s voice though, that had her stomach clenching. Anxiety crawling up her throat, she answered.

“Yes?” Her first instinct was to ask if the Bull had done something, knowing well enough that her son was a troublemaker most of the time but there was something else, there had to be something else. Otherwise the teacher would just say it and not hesitate for so long.

Giselle’s voice was tight when she answered. “He had an accident. Apparently he tried to help one of the other students who was crossing the street without checking for cars and…”

Dread pooled in her stomach. Blood running ice cold in her veins and her hand was shaking when she clutched the phone closer to her ear. “What? What happened? Is he-“ She forced out, the words more gasped than spoken.

“The ambulance was just here. He’s being brought to the hospital momentarily. The doctor wanted to call you once they were there but I thought it would be better if I told you.”

Time seemed to slow to a halt around her. Her child. Her son was in the hospital. He had an accident. A million questions were burning on her tongue, a million things she needed answered. How badly was he injured? What exactly happened? Did the doctor say anything at all about what state he was in? But the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. The only thing she managed to ask was: “What hospital?”

Avisignis only half heard what the teacher was saying after that, she jotted down the address and then hurried to tell Giselle that she had to hang up. There was no time to waste, no time for apologies or well-meant wishes. She checked on Sera but the baby was still sleeping soundly. Avisignis knew it was best to let her sleep instead of taking her along, she had no idea how long it would take and she didn’t want Sera to be there in case… She didn’t finish the thought, pushed it aside as quickly as possible. Her hands were trembling so bad it took her two tries to open the door of her car. She called Gordon on the way, her voice a high pitched whisper when she explained the situation and asked him if he could come over quickly so that Sera wouldn’t be alone when she woke up from her nap and to look after the kids when they got back from school.

The street seemed to be blurring, fading away and it wasn’t just due to the heavy rain. Lifting one hand from the steering wheel, she touched her cheek, feeling the wetness and only after a minute realising that it was tears. He was alright, she told herself, he had to be alright. But what if he wasn’t? A treacherous voice in her head asked. What if he’s dying? Or in a coma? What would she tell the other children? What would she tell Dorian? The two of them were so close, closer than any of the others and it would surely break the young mage’s heart to hear that something had happened to the Bull. She swallowed the rising sickness in her throat when she drove into the parking lot of the hospital. Locking the car took an eternity and in the end she was just about ready to just leave it like this because she needed to get inside. She ran, her footsteps too loud in the long corridor with its clinically white walls. She hated hospitals, hated the way people looked at her with pity and sympathy in their eyes, hated the silence because no one dared to speak. It was a graveyard, a place where people buried their hopes and dreams.

She skidded to a halt in front of the reception desk. The nurse there looked up, his face a mask of boredom and routine and Avisignis felt the urge to strangle him because how could someone who worked here be so disinterested when there were lives at stake? “My son.” She spat out, worry turning the words to acid in her mouth. “Pentaghast. Iron Bull Pentaghast. He was brought in with the ambulance. He had an accident in front of his school.” The nurse didn’t even hurry up, he took his time checking the computer. Avisignis wished Anders was here. The healer at least gave a fuck about his patients unlike this guy.

Her heart sank, when he finally pulled up the right file. “He’s in surgery right now. Don’t know how long it’ll take. Sorry but you’ll have to wait.”

“No.” The word fell from her lips but it didn’t carry any strength. She deflated, clutching the edge of the desk for a minute, before she pushed herself away from the counter to head to the waiting area the nurse had pointed at. Her legs were heavy as lead, taking twice as long to cross the distance between the reception and the door to the waiting room. For a moment she hesitated, her hand on the handle. She didn’t want to go inside, didn’t want to join the other people who had to be waiting, didn’t want to drown in the fear and insecurity that was rising in her chest. But there was nothing else she could do. There was nothing she could achieve by pointing a gun at someone, no one she could bribe or threaten. There was no one to kill.

For the first time in her life she felt truly helpless. This is the price you have to pay, she told herself, finally pushing down the door handle. The price you have to pay for your family. She was no longer alone. Avisignis didn’t mind the caring for others part but she wasn’t good at relying on others. The mere thought of having someone else decide over the fate of her children made her dizzy, gasping for air. She wasn’t good at just sitting and watching, waiting.

She stepped into the waiting area, her gaze travelling over the shrunken forms of the other people who were occupying the uncomfortable steel chairs. They all had the same face, the same expression of fear and tentative hope. She was two steps into the room when she spotted a very familiar figure curled up on one of the chairs. “Dorian?” She asked, shocked to see the little face streaked with tears when the boy looked up.

“Mummy!” He hiccupped, rushing through the room and throwing himself in her arms. She felt the same desperation that gnawed at her heart in the way he wrapped his thin arms around her, clinging to her.

Avisignis tried to speak around the lump in her throat, her arms coming around Dorian’s shoulders, as he pressed him close. He was still sobbing, his entire body shaking from the tremors but there was nothing she could do, no way for her to ease his heart. “It’ll be alright.” She finally mumbled, pulling her son over to one of the chairs. She didn’t lose a word of complaint when he climbed onto her lap and rested his head against her shoulder. “It’ll be alright.” She repeated, whispering it more to herself than the child she held in her arms.

 

The surgery didn’t actually take very long but to her it felt like an eternity. If it wasn’t for the trembling Dorian on her lap she would’ve paced along the room, probably driving herself and everyone around her insane. Like this she was forced to sit, every now and then trying to distract herself from the waiting by watching the other people in the room. Only five of the seats were taken. Closest to the door was a young human woman, her face hidden behind her hands, as she stared at the floor, as though she was trying to count the cracks in the grey tiles. She raised her head every time the door opened but never quite looked up. From the way she was sitting, Avisignis figured that she’d been here the longest, waiting for an uncertain fate to catch up with her. Next to the window a Qunari was typing away at their phone but from the way they glanced up every four seconds, eyes flickering from the door, to Avisignis and then to the window, she gathered that they weren’t really paying attention to whatever they was doing with their mobile. Even with the plain clothes and their shoulders drawn up like they wanted to hide in their own skin, they were huge. One of their impressive horns lightly scratched along the wall in their back every time they moved.

The other two were human as well, a couple from the look of it. They were sitting on the opposite side of the room, hands joint and shoulders touching as they both leant into the other for support. The silence in the room was deafening, only interrupted by the little sobs that shook Dorian’s body. A radio wouldn’t be a bad idea, Avisignis thought, at least it would help with the graveyard atmosphere. But the thought quickly vanished when the door opened and one of the doctors entered.

“Miss Pentaghast?” He asked and when Avisignis nodded her head, he approached them. Dorian was on his feet momentarily and Avisignis followed him. She wasn’t quite sure if it was Dorian who had reached for her hand first or the other way round but they both needed something to hold onto. The doctor smiled reassuringly and that alone sent a wave of relief through her. “Your son is fine. There were no complications with the surgery. We removed several little pieces of metal from his face and shoulder. It’s mostly minor injuries that he will recover from without any lasting damage.”

Avisignis sighed, squeezing Dorian’s hand in relief. But there was something else, something the doctor hadn’t mentioned. She could see it in his eyes, the flash of sympathy, as he opened his mouth again to continue. When he did, her heart skipped a beat.

“There’s only one thing. His- apparently he scratched up the left side of his face when he hit the pavement. We had to stitch some of the cuts. There should not be too much scar tissue but we couldn’t do anything for his left eye. I’m sorry.”

Dorian gasped. Tears once again rolling down his cheek at the news. Avisignis herself was shocked into silence, not quite knowing what to say. On one hand she was still just relieved that the Bull was alive and that he would recover, on the other hand… she didn’t even know what to think. Sure, she did not care too much about the scars and the eye themselves, she would love her child no matter what and she knew the other kids would too. But she hated the thought of the Bull being in pain, of him hating himself because of this injury, of the rejection he would experience because of it. Above all else she just wanted her son to be _happy_.

“Can we see him?” She finally asked and the doctor nodded, holding the door open for the two of them before showing them the way to the Iron Bull’s room. The boy was awake, obviously having shaken off the effects from the anaesthetic they’d given him and he seemed too calm for someone in his situation. He perked up when they entered the room, lips pulling into a wide smile. Too cheerful, Avisignis thought, at the same time relieved and worried. How could he be so cheerful when her heart seemed to be trying to jump out of her chest? She smiled nevertheless, letting the joy at seeing him in such high spirits chase away the aftertaste of the helpless-useless-afraid.

Dorian had hesitated at first, standing in the door for a moment as though he wasn’t quite sure if he should even be here. But once the Bull spotted him and waved a hand, he hurried into the room. He still looked miserable, even when he had climbed onto the hospital bed and was kneeling next to the Bull’s form, his hands tentatively reaching out for the older boy’s uninjured shoulder. The grey eyes were fixed on the left side of his face, the thick bandages wrapped around his head and Avisignis could see that he was still crying, softly. Sitting on the chair next to the bed she didn’t dare intrude on the moment when the Bull half hugged the younger boy, patting his arm in an attempt to comfort him.

“It’s fine, Dorian, it doesn’t hurt at all.” That part she actually believed, with his voice as slurred as it was, he probably still had the painkillers in his blood.

Dorian didn’t seem very convinced though. “You’re hurt.” He sniffled, rubbing one arm over his face in an attempt to wipe away the tears. “I don’t want you to be hurt. Your eye…”

The Bull shrugged with one shoulder. “I don’t care about my eye.” He grinned. “It will look impressive. Like a real warrior. Right, mum?”

Avisignis hurried to agree. “You see.” The Bull said and though Dorian had calmed down enough to stop crying, he still didn’t look very happy.

“It’ll be horrible.” He muttered under his breath, hands still holding onto the Bull’s shoulder.

The Bull only kept patting his head. “I don’t care. As long as you still like me?”

At that he actually looked insecure, voice wavering but Dorian only glared at him. “Of course I still like you. I will always like you.”

The older boy laughed happily. “That’s good.” But when Dorian didn’t smile back at him, he frowned. “Don’t be sad. I don’t like it when you’re sad.” He admitted, chewing on his bottom lip in thought, before his face lit up, apparently because of an idea he had. “I’ll marry you! Teacher Giselle said it makes people very happy when they marry so I’ll marry you and then you will be happy again!”

Judging from his face, Dorian was probably as surprised by the suggestion as Avisignis. After a moment his lips curled into an actual smile and he looked away, a slight blush creeping on his face, as he mumbled: “That’s stupid.” But it had cheered him up, that much was obvious and the Bull laughed again before he closed his eyes and let his head sink back into the pillow.

Despite the dread she’d felt earlier, Avisignis felt as though the little banter had sucked all of the misery out of the air. Suddenly the white walls looked a lot friendlier than they did before. And though she still wanted to get out of this place as quickly as possible, she found herself not minding to stay a bit longer and watch the Bull and Dorian sleep, curled up next to each other on the hospital bed. She snuck out after a few hours to get herself a coffee and thanked the doctor when she ran into him. Later she called Gordon, updating him on the situation and asking how the rest of the kids was doing. He was relieved to hear that the Bull would be alright and then rambled on about how Sera managed to spread her dinner all over the kitchen wall and Avisignis found it took a weight off her heart that she hadn’t known was there. Chuckling she promised Gordon that she’d be home soon to relieve him of his babysitting duties.

 

The doctors decided to keep the Iron Bull overnight for observation and when Avisignis said that she would stay too, the Bull insisted that it was alright and that he would be fine as long as she came back first thing in the morning. Hesitantly, Dorian and her finally left. The mage was uncharacteristically quiet on the way home and Avisignis didn’t push him, knowing fully well that even children needed their space every now and then. Sure enough he was a lot livelier at dinner already, telling the others the heroic story of the Bull jumping in front of a car to save one of his classmates, at least twice. Cassandra seemed the most impressed, asking again and again for details that Dorian was very happy to supply. Avisignis could see the glint in her eyes. She had a love for everything that was knight-y and brave.

Avisignis drove to the hospital the next morning to fetch the Bull. Dorian had, after some initial discussion, agreed to go to school instead of coming with her and he was welcomed with a lot of cheer and hugs back at Skyhold later.

The situation turned out a lot less serious than Avisignis expected and, oh, how surprised was she when only a few days later a whole group of kids was suddenly standing on her doorstep, asking to see the Iron Bull. They all filtered into the lobby. They were greeted with some suspicion on Dorian’s and Leliana’s side at first. Krem, who was obviously the head of the group and apparently the classmate the Bull saved from getting hit by the car a week ago, approached the latter. With a lot of more or less formal words, Krem asked him to become the new leader of the Chargers as they called themselves.

“You’re strong.” He admitted without a hint of hesitation. “We think you would make a great leader.” Avisignis could practically feel the pride radiating off the young Qunari as he accepted.

“You’ll have to swear your loyalty to the Inquisition.” Solas chimed in and the Bull agreed.

Krem eyed him for a moment, then turned around to face his friends, asking if anyone was opposed to the idea. They all shook their heads. “I like it.” One of them, a little Dalish elf, said finally and when everyone wholeheartedly agreed, Krem faced the Pentaghast children again.

The Inquisition, Avisignis thought curiously, as she watched Krem and the Chargers bow their heads and solemnly swear that they would serve the Inquisition under the Bull’s lead. She’d have to ask the kids about their game later. She wondered how they had come up with such an idea.

Clearing her throat, she stepped out of the doorway to the kitchen, where she’d been standing before, letting her gaze sweep over the merry gathering. “Why don’t you take your friends up to the attic and I’ll bring you snacks? Who wants sandwiches?” Thirteen voices cried ‘me!’ at the same time and she found herself chuckling, motioning for the kids to go play before she headed back to the kitchen. She just hoped she had enough bread for everyone.

 

It was late afternoon when the chargers left, one after the other shuffling down the wide stairs to the driveway. Krem was the last one to go, lingering for a moment to chat with the Iron Bull and Dorian who were holding hands. The two had grown even closer after the accident, never leaving each other’s sight if it was possible. Dorian would even sit and watch when Avisignis changed the Bull’s bandages and tended to his scabs with the salve the doctor had handed her, flinching every time the Bull did, his grey eyes widened as though he was feeling the pain himself. Indeed it felt like her whole family had grown even stronger after the incident, holding together tightly with everyone intent on taking care of the others. It was a heart-warming feeling and Avisignis couldn’t help the hint of anxiety it had planted in her chest. She couldn’t forget the feeling of helplessness, the utter dread at not being able to do anything to help and protect her family. She hadn’t wasted too many thoughts on it before, too busy basking in the joy her children brought her and preoccupied with her new responsibilities but now she couldn’t help but wonder about the future. What else was going to happen? How many times was she going to end up watching helplessly as one of her kids got hurt?

Krem shook her hand when he left and Avisignis made a mental note to call his parents and talk to them about puberty blockers later so that Krem wouldn’t have to go through the pain of growing the boobs he clearly didn’t want. When the door was closed behind him, Avisignis herded the kids back into the kitchen, reminding them that all of them still had homework to do. The news were accepted with a low murmuring but soon they were all gathered around the kitchen table, buried in their textbooks and only every now and then coming up to her to ask something. That was another thing she worried about. Growing up with the Lavellan clan she’d stopped going to school after her first year in middle school and though the older Sisters had given little lessons in some topics, she feared that she wouldn’t be able to help her kids out with their homework for much longer. She already struggled trying to comprehend the math problems Solas sometimes showed her and though she tried her best to push down the shame crawling up her throat at that, it was still bothering her. She’d considered signing up for online courses but with little Sera and the deadline she had to keep for the second book in her new series, she definitely didn’t have the time for it.

A content smile playing on her lips as she watched everyone pouring over their schoolwork, she went to the living room to pick up Sera. She still had some writing to do but that could wait until after the baby had been washed and fed. It was only around five but with the grey skies looming overhead the dim light of evening was already wrapped around the building like a thick blanket. With Sera fast asleep in her cradle, she climbed down the stairs again and picked up her laptop on the way to the kitchen. The stew for dinner was already on the stove and with nothing left to do but make sure everyone actually did their homework like they were supposed to, she sat down and began to type.

 

_Her other hand came up to cup her lover’s face. Strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer against a warm body and the feeling of that chest moving against hers distracted her from all the dark thoughts on her mind. The battle can wait, she thought, all of Thedas can wait. And then she leant in and closed the distance between them. Kios sighed as their lips touched for the first time. The sensation was just as she’d imagined it and so much better at the same time. Meredith’ hand was at her neck, angling her head for better access and they melted together._

 

She had just finished the paragraph when something interrupted the productive silence of the kitchen. Her fingers faltered on the keyboard, so did the scratching of pens on paper that had before filled the room. It could’ve been just her imagination, it probably was just her imagination, but somehow something felt off. It couldn’t be Gordon, he had a key. It couldn’t be the neighbours because they were away on a trip to the Free Marches to visit their daughter. It probably wasn’t Krem or the other Chargers either since she hadn't found anything they could've forgotten and would come back to get. A strange feeling rising in her chest, she got up, told the kids to keep working and moved into the hallway.

 

The doorbell rang a second time.


	11. Chapter Nine aka A Visitor

 

Chapter Nine

 

Avisignis couldn’t explain the sudden anxiety washing over her, the way her heart suddenly beat faster and her hands were shaking. She’d had peace for so long, why would anything happen now? Taking a deep breath, she swallowed down her uncertainties and reached for the umbrella next to the door. Hawke had given it to her after she’d told her friend about the incident with Gordon. With its tip and handle made of solid steel, it was good enough in a fight but it wouldn’t do any good against guns. “It’s not like you’ll need it.” Hawke had said, admiring the handiwork before pushing the handle into Avisignis’ hand. “It’s basically just so you feel safer. Or to fight off annoying neighbours.”

It did indeed calm her nerves to wrap her hand around the makeshift weapon. Willing her hands to stop trembling, she finally opened the door before whoever was standing there could ring for a third time. A breeze of cold air hit her as soon as the door was open and she found herself shivering again, wrapping her arms around herself and peering up at the stranger. Even in the dim light of dusk she could spot the scar on his face, twisting his upper lip just the tiniest bit. It was the first thing that caught her gaze and yet once she tore her attention away from his lips, she found herself wondering how his eyes hadn’t been the first part of his face she’d noticed. Reflecting the light from the lobby, they were shimmering gold. There was a depth to them that surprised her, drawing her in until she had to force herself to look away.

The stranger cleared his throat, a little, possibly insecure smile settling on his lips. “Miss Pentaghast, I presume?” Her eyebrow twitched. “My name is Cullen Rutherford, I’m with child services, I’m here to-“ He gestured towards the house. “Inspect the conditions of your home. We got a call from the hospital, someone expressed their concern for your children and I was sent to make sure that…” He hesitated, obviously not quite sure how to phrase whatever he was going to say next.

Oh, she knew why he was here. Bitterness swept over her, as she thought of the doctor who had given her the instructions how to care for the Bull’s injuries. He’d taken one long look at her face, muttered something under his breath about knife-ears and Avisignis had thought he’d walk out on her that very moment. Over all the kind people she’d met, starting with Sister Elisabeth and most of the teachers at the school in Haven, she’d almost forgotten what most people thought of her kind. How much people despised everything that had to do with elves. And now this guy was here to _inspect_ her home because no one could believe that a Dalish elf would adopt a bunch of children not for her own sake or for some ulterior scheme but because she wanted to do some good and have her own family. Her face fell, lips pulled into a tight line, as anger boiled in her chest.

Instincts taking over, she took one step towards him. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eye, as he was quite tall, taller than Blackwall but that didn’t deter her. Voice as cold as her eyes, she found herself gripping the handle of the umbrella tightly. Her fingers itched to grip the collar of his shirt instead, to bring him to his knees for even entertaining the thought that she would harm her children or use them for Maker knows what. “You’re here to see if you can find a reason to take my kids just because I’m a _knife-ear._ ” She spat the words in his face, not regarding the way his eyes widened ever so slightly and his mouth opened to utter some kind of objection. The same fear she’d felt waiting at the hospital for news of the Bull’s condition, overcame her and it nurtured her fury. If these people wanted to be racist bigots she would not stand by to see it happen. She could live with insults; she could live with the stares and the pointed fingers even but if anyone dared to take it out on her children, she couldn’t account for anything. “You. Are not. Taking. My kids.”

The man looked surprised, instinctively backing off a bit and Avisignis tried her best to ignore the sudden triumph flaring up in her head. He raises his hands in a gesture of defeat, his gaze flickering from her face to the umbrella in her hands and back as he cleared his throat again. “I’m very sorry if it sounded like that. I can promise I have no intention of taking away your children. I’m just here to make sure they’re alright. It’s a standard procedure if someone approaches us with concerns. I just have to take a look at the house and talk to the kids, maybe, and see that everything is the way it’s supposed to be and then I’ll be out of your hair again.” The smile was back and Avisignis couldn’t help the strange feeling that seeped into her stomach at the sight. It was a nice smile, slightly crooked and in any other situation she’d have thought it was quite endearing. Now, with the anger still red hot in her chest, she just shrugged, grudgingly stepping aside and motioning for him to come in.

For a second she considered apologising for her behaviour but then again, she didn’t feel sorry at all. Sure, she was just giving him more excuses to break apart her family but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have found some other reason to call her a bad mother. Once he was inside, she let the door fall shut and placed the umbrella back in its place in the corner. Avisignis made a mental note to actually thank Hawke for it. Rutherford looked a bit awkward, standing in the foyer and looking around like he’d never been in a house this impressive before. It took him several moments to realise Avisignis was holding out a hand to take his coat.

“So, uh. You live here alone, right? With the kids I mean. That’s what the file says, no wife or husband or anything.” He asked when she led him towards the kitchen.

The Dalish spared him a look over her shoulder, trying to ascertain what the look on his face meant. Was it pity or simple curiosity? “Not that I know of.” She bit her tongue at the sarcastic remark but he just flashed her another smile and jotted something down in his notepad that he’d apparently pulled out of his coat pocket.

“And you work as a novelist.” It wasn’t a question so she saw no need to answer. “And that’s enough to support the mansion and the children?”

Avisignis pushed open the kitchen door and another wave of triumph washed over her as the chattering that had leaked into the corridor only seconds ago stopped instantly. Seven pairs of eyes were fixed on the stranger and she didn’t even have to turn around to know that the eyes were filled with distrust and suspicion. Each of her kids had lived through own, horrible experience, each of them had their scars and if there was one thing they neither trusted nor wanted anything to do with it was strangers. People who intruded on their safe space, especially strange men. “It’s enough. And even if it wasn’t, I do have enough money to my name to support those under my protection.”

Rutherford seemed distracted by the sudden air of hostility in the room, still standing in the doorway. “Right.” He muttered distractedly and Avisignis almost felt a pang of guilt or maybe sympathy for the man. He hadn’t known what he’d signed up for, she thought.

“Solas, would you look after Sera for me?” She asked, intent on defusing the situation at least some. To the other children she said: “Judging from the noise you’ve all finished your homework. In that case you can go and play upstairs until dinner’s ready.”

Slowly at first the cheerful chatter filled the kitchen again as everyone gathered their things from the kitchen table and filed out of the kitchen to head for the attic. Avisignis could hear Cassandra yelling in the hallway: “This time we help the Templars, not the Mages! I have enough of time travelling!” There was no doubt it had something to do with that game of theirs and she reminded herself to ask about the details sometime. With their wild imagination the children came up with the most fascinating ideas she was sure would make a great story if one were to write it down.

Rutherford was obviously relieved, now that he was no longer being scrutinized by half a dozen kids he actually dared to step into the kitchen. When Avisignis gestured towards the kitchen table, he sat down on one of the many chairs. “Coffee sounds good.” He answered to Avisignis’ question whether he wanted something to drink. When she fixed the coffee for the both of them, she could feel his gaze in her back and she did her best to swallow her growing irritation.

“I’d like to know more about that investigation of yours.” She said when she set down both of the cups on the table and glanced at the clock over the counter. Still about half an hour until dinner time.

Rutherford started with: “I’m sorry if this is an inconvenient time for you.” And she was tempted to tell him that any time was inconvenient for her but she bit her tongue before the words could escape her mouth. “It’s simple really. I’ll need a few weeks at most. I’ll have to stop by every now and then, sometimes I’ll call in advance, sometimes I won’t and if I don’t see anything that…” He really wasn’t good with words, she thought to herself, probably not used to talking very much or to people talking back at him. “If everything’s satisfactory I’ll write the report and everything will go back to normal.”

Maybe it was her instinct as a storyteller that whispered into her ear that ‘everything will go back to normal’ is exactly what the characters in her story always said and it never worked out quite that easily. She ignored it, sipping her coffee and nodding her head. She still didn’t trust him, neither his smile nor his apparent kindness. He could just be a really good actor, she thought though even that paranoid part of her brain couldn’t come up with an explanation why he would need to pretend to be nice. If he really was only here to take away her kids he could just say it, it wasn’t like she could do much to stop him. Legally speaking at least. Maybe he wanted to taunt her, wanted to win her trust and then double cross her and leave her hurting in more ways than just one. The thought slipped unbidden into her mind but even when she tried to focus on something – anything else, it stuck, hiding in the darkness at the back of her mind.

They drank their coffee in silence, only every now and then Rutherford would ask her something and write down her reply in his notebook. Seeing her pen scurry over the page and not knowing _what exactly_ he was writing made her nervous. She felt like she was being interrogated, like the police had finally caught up to her and now she was being prodded and provoked until she spilled everything. No. No, she wouldn’t talk! She wouldn’t betray the trust the Keeper had in her, wouldn’t betray her sisters! Closing her eyes for a second, she took a deep breath and reminded herself of the ‘here’ and ‘now’. She had betrayed her sisters long ago. The only secrets she was keeping, she kept for her own sake and for that of her children.

Avisignis ignored Rutherford’s questioning look, instead stood up to carry her empty cup over to the sink.

“I have to get dinner ready. Unless you need to stay for your investigation, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

To her surprise, Rutherford didn’t lose a word about being kicked out. Instead he actually thanked her – politely – for the coffee and waited until she had rinsed both mugs before following her back to the front door. “I hope it’s alright if I come back tomorrow?” He finally asked and for a second it almost sounded like he was asking for a date, which he was definitely not and the moment the thought actually crossed her mind, she found herself questioning her sanity.

Tomorrow was a Saturday which meant she would have some grocery shopping to do and the kids would be spending the morning at Gordon’s. “No one will be home until one or something.”

He nodded, hesitating just a moment before he slipped into his coat and – with a very formal goodbye on his lips – headed down the stairs to the plain, black car parked in the driveway.

Avisignis found herself watching as he drove away, standing in the door despite the cold and wondering why this man was ruffling her feathers so much. With a sigh, she finally turned around. There were more important things to think about, like dinner and deciding who would have the right to the remote this evening.

 

Rutherford stopped by the next day as he’d announced. He still looked uncomfortable, as though he didn’t really want to be here and Avisignis tried her best to ignore the slight tinge of guilt it made her feel. She had no reason to feel guilty, she reassured herself, as she’d only told him the truth. It wasn’t as much a formal introduction as it was everyone staring at the stranger with more or less concealed distrust, when they’d all gathered in the lobby. With Sera on her arm, Avisignis watched Josephine approach the man first, the same hard glint in her eyes that she’d seen when she’d first met the young girl. Rutherford asked her if she was happy in Skyhold and Avisignis’ chest ached when she heard Josephine fall back into the same formal speech that she’d learnt in her old home.

“It’s completely suitable. I’ve heard no expenses were spared to accommodate me and I have nothing to complain about. It’s a wonderful place.” Her voice only wavered a bit, when Rutherford asked her about Avisignis. The girl looked at him as though he was asking if the grass was green. “She’s a great mum! I can’t imagine why anyone would not love her. She never asks us to do anything we don’t want to do. And she never gets angry or yells at us like my father did.”

A murmur went through the rest of the gathering as everyone agreed and before anyone else could say anything, Solas stepped in. He looked more defiant than anything, as though he was facing an enemy. With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he looked Rutherford straight in the eye. “If you try to get us to say something that will make our mother look bad, you can leave. ”

The man looked entirely out of his depth but Avisignis could see a hint of amusement in his eyes as he raised his hands and took a step backwards. “I’m not trying anything. I’m sure your mother is a wonderful person and I can see that you all love her very much.” _But sometimes it’s the people you love most who do you wrong._ He left the rest of his speech unspoken, more for the children’s sake than for hers and she found herself almost grateful for it. They didn’t need a reminder that their own parents had left them to this life, either by choice or by being torn from this world.

When Rutherford had no more questions to ask, he turned towards Avisignis again. “Would you mind giving me a tour of the place?” She nodded and wondered why it was so easy to return his smile.

“Right, this way.” She said, shifting a babbling Sera on her arms, as her shoulders threatened to fall asleep and leading the way to the east wing. It was obvious that Rutherford was impressed by the mansion, he commented on the renovations, especially the ones that had been made after Josephine had moved in to suit her needs. Avisignis was sure that Mrs. Pentaghast would’ve loved this, showing off the mansion and chatting on about the details of the facades and the renewed staircases and everything. A smile gracing her lips at the thought, she tried her best to give him an overview. She showed him the kids’ rooms, leaving out only the master bedroom because that just felt beyond inappropriate. The library still looked rather empty, lines of lines of shelves without books as she hadn’t gotten around to buy new books. They’d collect them, she figured, with most of the kids being avid readers, the shelves were sure to stock up over time. Next was the attic, the basement that Cole still avoided like it was the fade itself.

There was one room in the basement that stayed locked at all times and when they passed the steel door, she felt her heart beating faster in anxious anticipation. If he insisted to venture into that room, she was beyond screwed. She’d gotten rid of most of her equipment but with her past still looming over her like a Damocles sword, she had reassigned this one as her weapons room. There was no way he’d look at the neatly sorted and well-kept rifles and garrottes and whatever else her inventory entailed and not call the cops immediately. But he seemed to barely see the door, instead he inspected the cables running along the wall, obviously making sure that there was nothing the kids could hurt themselves with. When he was satisfied, they climbed up the stairs again.

She was reluctant to show him her office as it was a complete and utter mess, pages of her manuscripts and unopened fan mail strewn over the huge mahogany desk. The shelves here were spilling over with books, most of them her works but there were some she used as references and her very own stash of favourite novels. A look of curiosity on his face, he carefully stepped around the piles of folders on the floor and stepped over to the bookshelf. She expected him to make a face, maybe question her taste in literature but instead his face lit up like a beacon. Carefully, as though he was cradling something invaluable he took one of them off the shelf. From where she stood she could see that it was one of her first works, “Dancing with the Halla”. The colourful cover was unmistakable.

He thumbed through the pages and then turned around to face her, the book still in his hands. At her raised eyebrow, he gave a sheepish little shrug. “You read Cinnamon’s books. It’s the first time I’ve met someone else who likes them. And you have so many of them!” _Well duh_ , she swallowed the comment before it could leave her mouth. He turned the book in his hands, skimming through the text at the back. “This was actually the first of their books I’ve read. I think it might even be my favourite.”

Avisignis wasn’t quite sure if he was attempting to make small talk of if he was actually serious. The look on his face though, hinted at the latter. So she decided to play along. “It’s alright I guess. A bit naïve, it’s obvious it’s one of her early works. The characters are too simple and the setting is a bit too cliché.”

To her surprise he looked almost offended, as though she had criticised _him_ and not her book. “You _guess_ it’s alright?” Rutherford clutched the book to his chest, looking like he was trying to protect it from her harsh words. “I get why you would say it’s a bit naïve but there’s nothing cliché about it. The characters are so realistic and well-rounded, it’s easy to emphasise with them. And the way they describe everything is just beautiful. Cinnamon focuses so much on feeling and sensations, you can really feel…” He stumbled over his words and she was certain that she could see an honest to Maker blush on his cheeks. “What I mean is you don’t need much… experience to get what she’s writing about.”

The Dalish had to bite the inside of her cheek to not burst into laughter at his sudden awkwardness. She’d never heard anyone argue so passionately over her writing and especially the last part of his little speech lit a spark of mischief in her. Keeping her voice entirely serious, she took a step forward to pluck the book out of his hands, opening it on the same page his thumb had rested at. Ah yes, she thought, the corner of her lips twitching despite her resolve to not give away her amusement. “It’s so simple I guess you really don’t need much experience to understand this. But don’t tell me, Serah Rutherford, that you’re a virgin?”

For a moment she completely forgot that he wasn’t just an old friend who’d come over for a chat, when she watched the blush on his face darken at her teasing. He quickly took a step away from her and the bookshelf. “Of course not, I mean…” Flustered, he helplessly wrung his hands. “I would rather not talk about this. Let us talk about something else.”

It was in that moment that she realised that he was actually quite handsome. There was something about him that was too hard, something in his face that indicated that he’d seen too much and it was probably that rough edge to him that intrigued her the most. With his blond hair and the muscular stature that was visible despite the ill-fitting suit, he looked more one of those conventionally attractive people that usually didn’t interest her at all. But there was more to it, he wasn’t the knight in shining armour that his appearance suggested. Of course it was purely her interest as a writer when she thought that she’d love to peel this outer layer apart and see what was really beneath it.

He cleared his throat again and when she realised that she’d been staring, she quickly averted her gaze. Instead she focused on putting the book back where it belonged. “If there’s any you haven’t read yet, feel free to borrow them.” She muttered, gesturing towards the books and because maybe she wasn’t done teasing him yet, she added: “I may even be able to get you signed copies if you ask nicely.” That caught his attention but when he asked whether and how he knew the author personally, she just shrugged. “A woman has got to have her secrets.” Avisignis couldn’t help the smile that curled around her lips.

Later she would curse herself for feeling so comfortable around him, a man she neither knew nor trusted but for now she was fine just watching him sift through the titles to look for something he hadn’t read yet. It was Sera’s wailing that interrupted their little moment and with a mumbled apology, she hurried out of the room to pick up the crying baby she’d left in her crib earlier. Rutherford obviously took that as his cue to leave, though he did take two of the books with him, holding them close to his chest like a treasure that needed to be protected from the world. Avisignis walked him to the door, a now peacefully chewing on her pacifier Sera on her arms.

“I’ll have to come back sometime next week.” He told her, one hand on the door handle already. “I’m not supposed to tell you when, so…”

Avisignis shrugged, planting a kiss on Sera’s forehead, more out of instinct than to show off. “We’re usually home in the afternoons. Solas and Dorian have their magic training every Tuesday and Thursday, Cassandra has sword fighting on Wednesdays and Fridays. Wednesdays is pancake day.” Why she added the last part, she didn’t know herself. It wasn’t like she was inviting him over for dinner or anything.

Rutherford nodded, that same, crooked smile playing on his lips. “I’ll see you then.”


	12. Chapter Ten aka the One and Only Inquisitor

 

Chapter Ten

 

Cullen stopped by the mansion on Wednesday. With the kids still at school, he found that Skyhold was eerily quiet, the only things to be heard were the cheerful babble of Sera and the rhythmic sound of Miss Pentaghast’s fingers on the keys of her laptop. He’d insured her that it was alright to keep working, as he was fine waiting for the kids to come home. With a cup of coffee in his hands, he let his gaze wander over the interior of the kitchen. There were pictures pinned to the large fridge, no doubt drawings the children had produced. Some of them were really impressive, he suspected either Josephine or Leliana to be behind them since they had struck him as the more artistic type. There were knights fighting dragons, mages casting spells upon unsuspecting enemies and something that was probably supposed to be ghosts. Cullen found himself staring at some of the more gruesome pictures, depicting fights and death. He’d seen worse, some children had a strange obsession with blood and dismemberment. He considered asking Miss Pentaghast why she had chosen to put them up as well but decided against it.

It was strange how much this place had surprised him. He had to admit, when he’d been handed the file, his first thought had been that something wasn’t right with the situation. He dared to say that he was no man of many prejudices and yet his mind had immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. Sure, she was a Pentaghast but noble names didn’t make someone a good person. On the contrary. And the report from the hospital had been vague enough to spark suspicion. An accident in school, it had simply said but school accident usually didn’t result in missing eyes and surgery. And yet, when he’d first driven up to the house nothing about it had seemed hostile. With the colourful decorations in the trees and the colourful window frames it had looked welcoming, warm. Miss Pentaghast’s reaction to him had been a shock, the fear so obvious on her features that it had left him completely speechless. What was she so afraid of? He’d thought, noticing her shaking hands and the way her fingers tightened around the handle of her umbrella. And yet she’d reminded him of a lioness, a powerful and graceful beast cowering in front of her lair to protect her cubs. There was more to her, more to this house and the bunch of kids that she’d adopted and he was torn between his desire to find out and his professionalism. All he had been sent here for was to check out if the living conditions for the children were alright. He had to get the real story behind the accident and figure out if the kids were just too intimidated to talk badly about their adoptive mother or if she really treated them the way she should.

And so far everything exceeded his expectations. It wasn’t perfect, families never were, no matter how close they were but he couldn’t find any flaw in the way she tended to her children. They all seemed healthy, in high spirits and in their own way incredibly protective of their home and their mother. He’d been impressed by the scene the last time he’d visited, the way Solas didn’t even look at Miss Pentaghast for confirmation as he argued that ‘if you try to get us to say something that will make our mother look bad, you can leave.’. After looking through the children’s files he’d been even more impressed. Most of them had been rescued from more or less traumatic experiences, left alone or abused by their birthparents. The files argued that the Bull was simply violent, that Solas had a schizophrenic disorder, that Cole was not only autistic but also suffering from PTSD at his young age. Cassandra had been described as ‘a simply difficult child’. Someone had even added ‘hopeless’ to Dorian’s file. And yet they all lived together like this and neither of them seemed particularly ‘hopeless’. If Cullen hadn’t known about their backgrounds, he’d almost assumed that they were truly her kids. Okay, she was too young to have so many children, especially considering Solas’ age and the fact that more than half of her children were human and there was the Bull… He shook his head, discarding the thought quickly. It was futile to break his head over things like this.

With nothing left to examine in the kitchen, he went back to watching Miss Pentaghast work. She was focused, only stopping every now and then to glance over at Sera or reach for the coffee mug on the table. Cullen couldn’t help but be fascinated by the way her lips would sometimes silently spell out words or the way her eyebrows would knit together every now and then. Subconsciously he found himself tracing the curve of her lips that she chewed on whenever her fingers faltered and she leant back, eyes narrowed as though she had to think about what to write next. He was pretty sure he’d never stared at someone quite as long as he was staring at her but he blamed it on the fact that he’d never really met a Dalish before. He’d never thought much about the facial tattoos. Sure, he’d seen Dalish before and there were a few actresses and actors in the popular movies or TV series he sometimes watched but it had never been of great interest to him. Right now though, he was entranced by the delicate lines that curled over the skin of her face. He wondered if it had any special meaning, if the bird unfolding its wings on her forehead was supposed to say something about her or her clan.

Of all the files he’d read prior to this assignment, hers had been the one that most intrigued him. Avisignis Pentaghast’s records were flawless and that was the strange thing. They were _too_ flawless. There was her education, her being only half Dalish but growing up with her father in one of the clans before her mother, a Pentaghast, had insisted on taking her in and brought her to Nevarra where she lived until her mother died and she was sent to Kirkwall to live with her aunt ant uncle. Cullen had called the schools she’d supposedly visit and was told that Avisignis had always been a top of her classes, had never caused any trouble. And yet, when he’d – out of simple curiosity – asked whether they were any classmates he could consult, he was shut down immediately. “We don’t like people prying into our students’ business.” The woman on the other end of the line had hissed, her words oozing with hostility. “If you’re not with the cops, you have no right to ask. We can’t just give away personal information like that. Have a good day.”

He’d stopped his research when nothing else came up and, though the suspicion still nested at the back of his head, had focused on the matter at hand. Convinced that he would find more answers in the Dales than in his own, crammed office, he’d set out for Skyhold.

The sound of a door slamming shut tore him from his thoughts and when he looked up, he saw that Miss Pentaghast was looking at him. Suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment at having been caught staring rush through him, he quickly stood up, almost knocking over the chair. She opened her mouth to say something but before any words could escape her mouth, the door was flung open and in came Cole, Dorian, Cassandra and the Iron Bull, all of them obviously very busy arguing about something that Cullen couldn’t catch. Well, the three of them were arguing and Cole was trailing after them, his huge hat, as always, hiding his face from view. They stopped dead in their tracks when they spotted him and Cullen was once again reminded that they really didn’t like him very much. Avisignis had told him that it wasn’t his fault per se, they were simply wary of all strangers, especially the kind who just showed up and started asking weird questions.

They didn’t seem as hesitant as before though, to just walk around him and take their places at the kitchen table. Cullen could still feel their eyes on him but they seemed to mostly ignore him, instead asking what they’d have for dinner and loudly complaining about how much homework they all had. “We’re doing a play in school!” Cassandra burst out the moment their mother had closed her laptop. She didn’t even complain about them bursting in like this and distracting her, she simply smiled and started collecting their lunchboxes.

“A play? What for?” She threw over her shoulder and with nothing better to do, Cullen sat back down to watch the exchange. That was, after all what he was here for in the first place.

Cassandra beamed. “It’s for All Soul’s Day! Every class makes a play and then we’ll have an evening when we’ll perform. You have to come too!”

“Mhmm. Sure, if you tell me when and where. Otherwise I’ll be left wandering the streets while you’re all having fun.” She joked.

Cassandra giggled and Dorian shook his head. “Noo. We’ll tell you!”

Miss Pentaghast stacked the lunchboxes in the sink and turned around to look at her children, a mock-serious expression on her face. “Whew, I’m glad. You’re really too kind, Dorian.” That made him grin too and for a few minutes everyone was talking about their role in the play.

Even Cole raised his head once or twice. “I’ll be a ghost.” He said proudly. “Cassandra wanted to go to the headmaster when I told her the teacher decided that I’ll be a ghost but I said that I like it.”

For a second Cullen had seen something like concern flash over the young woman’s face but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and she was left with a bright smile. Only then did he realise what had bothered him before. She was too serious, her face, despite her smooth skin too old for her age. There was something hidden behind these grey eyes, behind the premature lines around her mouth and in the bruises under her eyes. Something that seemed to disappear completely when she was talking to the children. To his surprise he felt less suspicion and more honest curiosity. She intrigued her and for better or worse, he felt like he needed to find out what exactly it was that had caught his interest.

“Can we go to Gordon’s house until dinner is ready?” Cassandra’s voice brought him back to reality and he realised that he’d tuned out most of the conversation after the initial shock of seeing everyone act so normally around him. “He said that we could help him paint the soldiers! And that he had a surprise for Dorian. I promise we’ll be back in time. We can even ask him if he wants to come see the plays too!”

Gordon? The name didn’t ring a bell, he hadn’t seen it in any of the files and though he felt like he’d heard it before from one of the kids, he couldn’t place it at all. His gaze travelled to Miss Pentaghast’s face and he saw that the woman wasn’t the slightest bit concerned. So it had to be someone she knew and trusted enough to send her kids over to his place. “Sure, go ahead. Tell him he can stay for dinner if he brings you home later. And don’t forget that you still have training later, Cassandra, so don’t exhaust yourself too much.”

The ‘yes yes’ was drowned out by the sound of chairs scratching over the stone floor and only minutes later the kids were out of the door, their steps echoing in the hallway outside. The smile still lingering on her lips, Miss Pentaghast sat down again, her fingers caressing the edge of her laptop for a minute before she apparently decided that there was no point in going back to work.

Instead, she offered to refill Cullen’s empty mug and then picked up Sera to see if the little girl was up to eat something. He knew he shouldn’t stay too long, he’d seen enough for one day but Cullen still found himself sitting at her kitchen table until the rest of the children returned home from school. Solas eyed him suspiciously but didn’t say anything, whereas Josephine actually tried to engage him in a formal conversation. She asked about his job, why he’d been assigned their case, what the investigation entailed and a lot of other things. The girl had obviously been trained and though he was impressed by her eloquence, she could see the distaste on Miss Pentaghast’s features. When Leliana more or less briskly interrupted them, stating that they had important homework to be done, the first honest smile graced Josephine’s lips. Cullen watched them, as Leliana pushed the wheelchair out of the door and he was surprised to hear someone sigh behind him.

Turning around he found Miss Pentaghast, a slender hand running through her hair, as she shook her head. “She’s not always like that.” The woman said and Cullen was confused as to what she meant for a little moment until she continued. “Josephine. She’s been taught all those things about being polite and distanced. I’ve managed to get her to stop doing it but around strangers, she always puts up the façade again. It’s an instinct that’s hard to get rid of I suppose.” So that was why she’d looked so put off when he’d talked to Josephine.

“The court isn’t the right place to raise a child.” He agreed and the smile that she flashed him at that, did the strangest thing to his heart. It was a beautiful smile, not quite the same she reserved for her children. This one was a bit wearier, speaking of exhaustion and still it was honest.

Only when he was already on his way to the car, he realised that the unfamiliar feeling invading his chest at the sight of her smile was indeed a strong desire to see it again.

 

As the weeks to All Soul’s Day passed, he spent more and more time at Skyhold. His investigation was going great, he had gathered most of the data he needed and with the kids finally warming up to him a little bit, he was able to ask all of them – except Sera who only answered in garbled little words – about their life at the mansion. The answers didn’t even surprise him at that point, he’d seen the way they acted around each other and he’d had to agree that it was a family like he’d never seen it before. It was the most ragtag gathering of different personalities and yet they had worked out a way to be together without fighting too often. Sure, like every other family they had their arguments but no one resorted to yelling at each other, the few times Cullen had heard someone shout had been over spilt lemonade or that one time Dorian accidentally set the curtains in Cassandra’s room on fire.

There were still a few loose ends, a few mysteries he hadn’t uncovered. No matter how many questions he’s asked the children knew nothing about their mother’s past. They didn’t particularly care either, each of them was convinced that Miss Pentaghast was the best mother they could’ve wished for. Solas had insisted that she’d always been a writer, even before she lived in Skyhold because he’d heard uncle Varric and her talk about storytelling once. Cole was the only one who’d taken his questioning seriously, staring at him with his wide eyes before muttering something under his breath. Cullen hadn’t been able to decipher most of the words but there was one that the boy repeated again and again:

“Fear.”

He didn’t want to admit how much it had shaken him up. He knew of the boy’s special talents, his ability to catch random shreds of thought. The first time he’d actually experienced it, it had scared the hell out of him if he was honest:

They’d been sitting at the dinner table, everyone busy with their soup when Cole had suddenly looked up, his hat crooked on his head, as he focused entirely on the odd one out at the table. “It’s loud. Noise. So much noise. Why is everyone screaming? Smoke. Pain.” Cullen hadn’t been able to do anything but stare at him, not even registering the deafening silence that suddenly filled the room.

“Cole.” Miss Pentaghast had finally said, her voice gentle. The boy had cocked his head and then turned away, flashing his mother what had to be the littlest smile but apparently enough to reassure her that he was alright.

She’d looked at Cullen then, her grey eyes filled with sympathy and he’d found himself dumbstruck. When the kids had all finished eating, she’d sent them to grab their schoolwork. He hadn’t understood why she was looking at him like that until she’d sat down on the chair next to him, her hand hovering only inches over his arm. “I’m sorry about that. He has that habit of bringing up the wrong things at the wrong time.” And it wasn’t as much her words as the way she eyed him that brought the memories back. Suddenly he found himself out of breath, smoke stinging in his eyes, burning his lungs. He couldn’t see for the dark cloud in the room, couldn’t hear anything past the rushing of his own blood in his ears and the anguished screaming.

Before he knew it, she’d taken his arm, leading him outside until the cold air filled his lungs and cleared the fog in his mind. “What the hell was that?” He asked once the ability to speak had returned to his mind.

She looked distraught, more so than she let on with her calm voice. “It’s Cole. He has that strange ability, sometimes he’ll just say things that he picks up from other people. It’s not always painful, just whatever is on someone’s mind or maybe their subconscious, I’m not even sure.”

He’d still not been quite sure what to make of it. In any other situation he’d called her crazy but he’d heard it himself, had seen the way Cole’s eyes seemed to look straight into his soul. It was just another thing about her family that was different, most people wouldn’t want two young mages in their home either and Dorian and Solas had to be a handful, with their powers not quite under control yet.

Cullen found that he truly admired her, not only for her courage and compassion but for the way she could treat these children the way they deserved it: Not with pity but with support and understanding.

 

It was Saturday, the cold rain outside a grey cloak, embracing the mansion. With a deadline she’d been muttering about for days hanging over her head Miss Pentaghast was in her office working. He’d only seen her once since he’d arrived, when she’d hurried into the kitchen to prepare sandwiches for the kids and refilling her coffee mug, before she’d flashed him a tired smile and disappeared again. For some reason he felt honoured that she’d leave him on his own like that, no longer hovering over him like before when he’d tried to talk to the kids. At the same time he fought the strange feeling of familiarity the situation brought with it. For the first time he felt like he belonged in this place and though he knew quite well that it was merely an illusion his mind made up because he’d been spending a lot of time with these people, he had to admit that he liked it. He’d never really thought of himself as someone who craved this kind of domesticity, not during his time with the Templars or after the bombing, when he’d struggled trying to find a place in the world for himself. Even after working for child services for several years, seeing so many different families, he hadn’t dared to envision what a family of his own would look like.

He pushed the foolish thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was just another assignment and that, after another few weeks, he’d no longer be part of their life. They didn’t want him anyway. Solas had made that quite clear and even though Miss Pentaghast had begun to treat him almost like one would a good friend, he was sure that she’d never even consider him as someone she’d want to stay with.

There was Gordon Blackwall, the man the kids always talked about. Cullen had met him twice, running into him in the driveway the first time and exchanging a few quick words of greeting. The second time the man, who lived down the street, had stayed for dinner, the same day Cullen had invited himself over. He’d felt the dark, scrutinising eyes on him all throughout the evening, the twist of the older man’s lips speaking of clear disapproval. Blackwall had cornered him in the lobby later, asking him straight out what his intentions were and if he was truly planning to act against Miss Pentaghast or the children. Cullen had told him that he had no intentions whatsoever, that he was solely there to do his job and that he wasn’t going to do anything that would jeopardise this family but Gordon hadn’t believed him. He’d seen it in the way the man hugged out a breath, his eyes flashing with something distinctly dangerous, as he’d warned Cullen that he’d better stick to his word.

“She doesn’t need any more trouble in her life.” Blackwall had told him and from the way his face softened when he talked about her it was more than obvious, that his feelings for her were more than just friendly neighbourhood. Cullen had nodded, not quite sure what to reply and tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest. He had no right whatsoever to be jealous and he was aware of that.

It was a bad idea, he knew, to get so attached to this place but he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was simply his desire for something stable, something that would not go up in flames. That was what he told himself, disregarding the way his eyes seemed to follow Miss Pentaghast whenever she was near, the way he couldn’t help his stuttering heart when he listened to her smooth voice.

It was Cassandra who pulled him out of the kitchen in the end, her eyes filled with determination. “Come play with us.” It was more of a command than a question and with a strange warmth filling his chest, he followed her, up the stairs and to the attic that he’d only once set foot in. The rest of the children were already gathered, sitting in a loose circle around a large table. Someone had pinned a crudely drawn map of Thedas on top of it and there were several chess pieces spread over the different countries. “This is our war table.” The aspiring knight at his side explained, voice filled with pride, as she beckoned for him to take a seat.

He’d wondered what kind of game they were playing but he’d never thought it to be quite so complex. The greatest mistake adults make, he thought to himself then, they underestimate the children.

As though he hadn’t met them all before, Cassandra began to introduce everyone in the room. “Dorian and Solas, out two mages. Solas has studied the fade and ancient elven magic, Dorian is from a very important family in Tevinter but he doesn’t like it there so he came here. We have the Iron Bull, he leads a group of mercenary called the chargers. His first in Command is Krem but he is not here right now because he is on a very important and secret mission. This is Josephine, she’s our ambassador. She talks to every important person and she handles all our political…” She stumbled over the word and glanced at Josephine, who immediately chimed in to help her.

“I handle the political affairs. It is very important to convince the nobles of our cause.” The girl said, leaning forward in her wheelchair to point at the map. “We are here. In the mountains. It is an old fortress but we renovated it to fit our needs. After all we have a lot of soldiers and people who need help we have to care for.”

Cassandra nodded, obviously satisfied with the explanation and continued with her introduction. “This is Leliana, she is our spymaster. She knows every secret in Thedas! And this is Cole, he is an assassin. And I was a Templar but then I joined the Inquisition because I wanted to fight with the good people. We help everyone and we fight the evil monsters.”

“And the dragon!” Dorian reminded her, his little hands curled around a small staff that was obviously supposed to be his weapon.

Cullen nodded. “So you’re the Inquisition?”

The kids agreed loudly and before he knew it, he was shuffled closer towards the war table and explained just what kind of missions they all went on and what countries were under their control.

“And who’s the inquisitor?” That left the children at a loss. “If you have an Inquisition, it’s very important that you have an Inquisitor to lead you.”

Cassandra glanced at Solas but the older boy just shrugged, obviously he hadn’t known that either. The question threw the kids into several minutes of intense consideration until Cole perked up, his hat quivering with excitement. “We can make mummy the Inquisitor!”

It was a choice everyone could agree on and Cullen found himself roped into helping to cut a sword out of paper and advising Leliana and Josephine in what colours to paint it. They made a little crown out of paper too but in the end threw it away because the Bull accidentally stepped on it.

Hours later they heard Miss Pentaghast call them down for dinner and when the whole bunch of them appeared in the kitchen, Cullen could see her surprise at seeing him amongst them. The shock on her face quickly morphed into a smile and she gestured for him to take a seat as she hurried to add another plate to the ones already scattered around the table.

Before they could eat however, the children had something very important to say. Cole made her sit down in her chair and when she raised an eyebrow at Cullen, he only shrugged. Unable to keep a straight face, he found himself returning her smile when Cassandra started to loudly declare that from this day on the Inquisition would have a leader and then more or less forcing the paper sword into Miss Pentaghast’s hand.

“Will you accept this burden?” Solas asked from her left side and Cullen could see how hard it was for her to keep from breaking into laughter, as she raised the sword over her head and proclaimed herself the one and only Inquisitor.

Watching her like this, her face lit up with adoration and barely contained laughter, he could no longer pretend that the strange longing in his chest was solely his desire for stability and peace.


	13. Chapter Eleven aka The Play

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Cullen found her hunched over her work again on All Soul’s Day. He’d come early, too early. The kids were still in school and he wasn’t even exactly sure why he felt the strong urge to drive over to the mansion. Before he could investigate his feelings though, he was already there, his finger hovering over the doorbell. He considered leaving, coming back later when it would be safer and he’d have an excuse that wouldn’t sound like he was just desperately trying to come up with something. Coward, he scolded himself and, taking a deep breath, he finally pressed the button. Miss Pentaghast – Avisignis, she’d told him to call her Avisignis – opened the door for him. For a second he found himself thinking that it really had been a terrible idea to show up this early as she was only wearing a fluffy bathrobe. He tried his best to keep his eyes from wandering down to her long, bare legs and his face flushed with embarrassment. Stumbling over his own words, he barely managed to wish her a good morning and asking whether he could come in.

“I was just in the area, so I thought I could uh- stop by.” And that was probably the worst line in the history of bad lines. She only gave him a little smile though, opening the door a bit wider so he could step inside. The warmth of the building enveloped him immediately and he let out a little sigh. Avisignis closed the door behind him and for a little second the silence between seemed almost awkward. She watched him shrug out of his coat, biting her bottom lip as though she wanted to say something.

Then she gestured towards the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee.” It sounded more like a question than an announcement and yet she left for the hallway before he could answer her. The old house had a very peculiar smell, something that reminded him of ‘home’ and ‘safety’ despite it not even being his home. Slowly, his eyes trailing over the paintings at the wall that he’d admired a dozen times already, he followed her. With the silence resting heavily on everything, he had to swallow around the lump in his throat as he entered the kitchen. For a moment he stopped in the doorway, his gaze involuntarily drawn towards her back. She was busy with the coffeemaker and if she’d heard his footsteps approach the kitchen, she didn’t say anything. Only when he finally tore his eyes away, in order to sit down at the table, she turned around. There was a strangely serious expression lingering on her face for a moment and all Cullen wanted was to reach for her and smooth his fingertips over her skin, wipe away the worry and kiss the corner of her lips until she was smiling again.

He shook his head, not quite sure where the thought had come from but knowing that it was as wrong as it was hopeless to think that way. She had Gordon, he reminded himself. The two of them seemed happy, though not living together, it was obvious that the kids looked up to him and probably saw him as a father figure. There was no space for him to intrude, even if he tried. The first sip of the steaming hot coffee burnt his tongue but at least that distracted him from the strange thoughts that kept invading his mind. He focused on the pictures at the fridge again, trying to make out the names of the children that had drawn them. There was a new one, Sera’s work probably as it was simply a mess of scribbles and crooked lines. Avisignis followed his gaze and chuckled. “She’s a real artist, isn’t she?”

Cullen agreed, relieved that she had initiated the conversation. They spent the next several minutes just chatting about the kids, she told him about this and that, how Dorian had mastered his first lightning spell, proudly displaying it by burning one of the trees to crisp outside. Cassandra was preparing for another tournament that would be held only a few weeks before Satinalia and she was beyond excited. If she won the first place, the teacher would allow her to advance into the next class, so if she wasn’t busy with schoolwork, she spent all of her time training. The Iron Bull had gotten his first detention, Avisignis told that as proudly as the other kids’ achievements. He and the chargers had apparently skipped class to save a bird trapped in one of the classrooms, a feat that aided their popularity with the students but not so much with the teachers. Solas had signed up for another language course, already bored with the ancient elvish as he’d surpassed his classmates with an ease the teacher had complained to her on the telephone about. Cullen thought that the boy really was one of the smartest kids he’d ever met. Cole had made a new friend. A sweet young girl called Maryden and it was all the boy talked about these days. Josephine and Leliana had started taking art classes, something at least Josephine had always wanted to do. At the same time Leliana, according to Dorian at least had started to build a network of spies around her school, mostly by bribing other kids into reporting to her whenever something interesting happened.

And Sera, Sera had started speaking actual sentences. Mostly things like ‘Sera hungry’ or ‘Cassandra yes’ whenever the older girl was on the verge of coming up with another rather reckless idea. The other kids had started to reply to the ‘Cassandra yes’ with a very serious ‘Cassandra no!’ but it only made little Sera giggle and did not keep Cassandra from following whatever idea she’d come up with. Avisignis was especially proud that more so than Sera’s verbal skills, her ability to walk on two legs instead of one had developed rather quickly. She was considering putting up fences around the stairways so the infant wouldn’t go and take a tumble down the stairs but so far nothing had happened.

Leaning back in his chair, Cullen had just settled in and prepared to listen to more stories about the little things that had happened at Skyhold the past week, when the phone started ringing. Mildly concerned, he watched as Avisignis flinched at the sudden noise, a reflex he’d noticed several times before. Then she apologised to him and when he waved a hand, she got up to get the phone from the counter.

He tried his best not to listen but it wasn’t exactly easy and the fact that he only heard one half of the conversation sparked his curiosity.

“Pentaghast?

“Ah yes, Vivienne. No, right now is not inconvenient at all.

“Yes, I’ve been expecting your call.

“What, today? Isn’t there any other time that I…”

Cullen heard a hitch in her voice and tore his gaze away from his coffee in order to look at her face. She was chewing on her bottom lip again, a habit that was almost endearing. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in obvious irritation, though there was nothing of it bleeding into her voice.

“Of course, I understand.

“Yes, I will be there. Three o’ clock, I should be able to make it in time.

“See you later.”

She hung up and the way she stared at the phone in her hand made his heart throb with concern. Bad news? He wanted to ask but wasn’t sure whether it was his turn to pry into her affairs or not. When she turned around, she flashed him an exhausted little smile. Avisignis hesitated and it was obvious from the way her nose was scrunched up and her brows drawn together, that something was indeed troubling her.

“Cullen?” She asked and he felt the urge to tell her that she could tell him anything that was on her mind.

He swallowed the comment down, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward than it already was. “Yes?” He only said instead.

The woman sighed again. “I never would ask you to do this but… the kids like you well enough and Gordon is away for the week, so-“ Another moment of hesitation and Cullen felt his heart beat faster in his chest. How dumb of him to get so excited over whatever it was she was going to say. _The kids like you well enough._ Sure, he’d noticed that the children were slowly warming up to him, they’d even declared him the official Commander of the Inquisition troops just two weeks ago but hearing it from her was something else entirely. He reminded himself to remain professional. “Would you look after the kids for a few hours? My publisher needs me to come in right away and I have no one else I could ask… I should be back before evening so I can take them to the school play.”

He’d almost forgotten about the play, only now registering that it was _today_ of all days. “Sure.” Cullen blurted out before he could even properly consider his reply. When she blinked at him, obviously surprised, he cleared his throat. “I mean, of course I can look after them for a few hours.”

Avisignis’ expression was one of pure relief. “Thank you, oh, you have no idea how much easier this makes everything. I’ll give you my mobile number so you can call in case something happens and you should give me yours so I can call you if I’m late. But I won’t be late, don’t worry.”

And he really shouldn’t be this excited over getting her number because it was all in order to look after the kids and in no way did it imply that he was allowed to use the number for other purposes, such as calling her after today unless it involved his investigation. Still, his heart wouldn’t calm down when he handed over his phone and their fingers brushed. Avisignis didn’t seem to notice it, too busy typing in her number and then disappearing into the hallway together with Sera to get ready.

“You’re a fool.” Cullen muttered to himself once he was alone, staring into his empty coffee mug. A lovesick fool, his mother would’ve called him and yet he was so sure that it wasn’t love. He just thought she was incredibly attractive and kind and compassionate and strong and she had such a cute laugh. His conscious called him a liar. Lost in the comfort of the kitchen, he was surprised when Avisignis returned after twenty minutes. She looked good, her with her hair pulled back into a neat bun, her discreet make-up and the clothes that were not quite Orlesian court style but still fashionable enough to identify her as a noble. For some reason, he wasn’t sure if he preferred her like this or in the comfortable clothes with the messy hair and the easy smile on her lips.

She had a messenger bag thrown over her shoulder and was holding Sera in her arms, the car keys dangling from one of her fingers. “Thank you.” She said again, before she lost herself in a seemingly endless list of things that he had to pay attention to with the kids and that he mostly already knew. When she was about to explain to him how to get the children to actually do their homework, he gently interrupted her.

“It’ll be fine.” And for a second he truly felt like one of those dads on the telly whose wife was going away on a trip and he had to reassure her that the house wouldn’t be in ruins when she returned. He quickly forgot about the thought, distracted by the way her eyes shone with gratefulness.

“Alright. I’ll be off.” There was something else lingering on her tongue, he could read it in her face but she didn’t say it. Instead, she nodded, turned on her heel and disappeared out of the kitchen once more. A few minutes later he could hear the car engine starting up outside and then the sound of the gravel under the heavy tires as she drove away.

For the first time he was alone in the huge mansion.

It was a strange feeling and yet he couldn’t help the pride that simmered in his chest whenever he remembered that she truly trusted him enough to leave not only her house but also her children in his care. Even the voice in his head that reminded him that he was only here because Gordon wasn’t available, couldn’t chase away the feeling.

 

Cullen had expected the kids to be more upset about coming home and finding him instead of their mum. But it seemed that Avisignis had been right about them growing accustomed to his presence since the only reaction he got was the question if he was going to make dinner. Cassandra offered that she’d cook for them and in return received a very distinct ‘no!’ from both Josephine and Leliana. He was pretty sure that was somewhere on the list of things that Avisignis had warned him about too: Don’t let Cassandra, the Bull or Dorian anywhere near the stove. Cullen had never really considered himself as someone who was especially good at cooking but he’d learnt a few tricks from his mother. The kids didn’t seem too unhappy with the bacon and eggs he whipped up, happily digging in as though they’d been left to starve for several days. Especially the Bull asked for seconds more than once. Somehow they all still managed to eat some of the yoghurt and apple slices he’d found in the fridge.

Josephine, as politely as always, offered to help him with the dished but with Leliana impatiently whispering in the other girl’s ear, Cullen just waved his hand and told them to go play. They had to prepare for their play, he remembered. They all seemed to get more and more excited the more time passed. Even Cassandra fussed over her hair, in the end quietly asking Cullen to help style it the way Avisignis always did for her. So he sat and styled Cassandra’s hair, only to find Josephine and Leliana back in the kitchen, quietly handing him a hairbrush and a few hair ties. He wanted to say that he’d never really done it before but with two pairs of big eyes looking up at him, he could hardly refuse. He was careful not to tug too much and at some point Josephine actually told him that he needed to pull a bit harder if the braids were supposed to look good. Cullen was sure that she’d never had such crooked braids before but the girl didn’t complain, instead she admired herself in the mirror for a few minutes, before she wheeled off. Though Leliana’s hair wasn’t quite as short as Cassandra’s, it was still too short to do very much and he was glad that she didn’t ask him to either. She’d obviously just tagged alone to make sure Josephine was alright.

They had only an hour left until they needed to leave for Haven and he found himself glancing at his phone every few minutes. No missed calls, no messages and the time was slowly but steadily running out. He wondered if something had happened to make Avisignis late or if it was simply the traffic. He was pretty sure that there was no way, she’d be late for her kids’ school play. Still, he forbid himself to start worrying. He had no reason to. The Inquisition however seemed to grow more and more restless. Half an hour later they were all gathered in the kitchen again, each with their bag ready, bombarding him with questions. “Why did Mummy go to Val Royeaux? Why isn’t she back yet? She will come to the play, right? You promised she’d be here.”

He couldn’t answer their question, only assure them that she would surely be there in time. But when the clock kept ticking away the minutes, he found himself starting to wonder. They waited until it was time and a few more minutes, until Cassandra started tugging at his sleeve, going on about how they really had to go. “We will be late! We can’t be late for our play, the teachers will be mad at us!”

With no other option left, Cullen tried to call Avisignis.

_“The number you are calling is not available. Please try again later.”_

The curse that almost fell from his lips was drowned out by Dorian’s loud complaining that he hadn’t practiced so much only to miss the play in the end.

There was only a second of hesitation before Cullen told everyone to get their coats and shoes and grabbed his own car keys from the dinner table.

Oh, he knew it was all sorts of illegal and irresponsible but somehow he managed to squeeze all seven kids into his normal sized car, wondering how on earth he had gotten so invested in this family that he would resort to something like this. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to bear the disappointed looks of the kids if they’d been forced the play. Cullen handed his phone over to Solas, asking him to try and call his mother again and the boy did so, not only once but several times on their way to Haven. “She’s not picking up.” He mumbled and Cullen could practically feel the irritation radiating off him.

From the backseat, Josephine chimed in: “But she promised to be there! She can’t miss it.”

Cullen didn’t want to voice the thoughts on his tongue, didn’t want to remind them that Avisignis probably didn’t have a choice in the matter. If she was late it was because something was holding her up for sure. He didn’t even want to try and explore the question when he’d developed such faith in her in the first place. He’d surely come a long way in the last two months. From being the one to investigate whether or not she was abusing her children to being Commander of the Inquisition troops. He figured it had to be an impressive development. The smile that curled around his lips at the thought was lost in the dim light of dusk. He only half listened to the kids’ chatting, mostly focusing on the road. He’d been at the school before but that had been years ago, he just hoped he’d be able to find it with the rapidly falling darkness. It had truly become autumn. Though the end of summer had been uncharacteristically cold this year, with the falling leaves and the fading light it was obvious that winter was slowly advancing on Orlais now.

He did find the school, though only with some help from Solas on the passenger seat who, with Cole on his lap, had been pointing at the right streets for a few minutes now. When they finally rove into the parking lot and stopped the car, Cullen swore himself that he’d remind the kids later to never tell anyone that he’d let all of them ride in his car. His boss would probably murder him if he found out. He was busy wondering how he was supposed to explain it to Avisignis when he followed the kids outside, only noticing that Cole had taken his hand, when the boy was tugging him along. He glanced down, surprised at the gesture but not objecting or pulling his hand away. He understood why Avisignis was so protective of these children, they were strange and downright scary sometimes – Cole when he was doing his mind reading thing or Dorian with his habit of setting things on fire – but Cullen couldn’t see them as anything but what they were: Children. Not a danger to society as the files about young mages sometimes stated but lovely children with their little quirks and talents.

A man approached him when they entered the school building. The Iron Bull and Cassandra greeted him, before they rushed off to join their classes. The other kids followed, Cole hesitating the longest before he let go of Cullen’s hand to follow his siblings. The man, a teacher, judging from the way he acted around the kids, approached him, his face a mask of polite curiosity.

“You must be Mister Pentaghast then, I’m delighted to meet you. I’ve only ever seen your wife around here.” The man held out a hand but Cullen was resistant to take it, at least until he cleared up the obvious misunderstanding.

He shook his head, trying to fight off the heat in his cheeks. Even if there was a part of him that had played with the thought before, it didn’t mean that he acknowledged it or even dared to truly consider the possibility. It wasn’t even a possibility. That was for sure. “She’s not my- I mean I’m just a friend. Of the family.”

The man blinked, surprise obvious on his features but then he smiled when Cullen finally reached out to shake his hand. “Forgive me. I was jumping to conclusions. I had expected to see Miss Pentaghast here today. She hasn’t fallen ill, has she?”

Not quite sure how to answer, Cullen just said: “She had to work late but I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

The teacher nodded. “Ah, yes. You should just reserve her a seat then.” And with a wave of his hand, he gestured for Cullen to go ahead and follow the hallway to the auditorium. Suddenly he felt completely out of place among all the parents and older siblings who’d come to watch their children. Solas, the only one who was not participating in the event, since he went to a different school, joined him a minute later and he was relieved when the boy led him to the seats for the spectators. Cullen felt as though he was even more nervous than most of the people in there, craning his neck to glance at the door every now and then. Minutes passed and there was still no sign of Avisignis.

The lights went out and the first students began filling the stage. Cullen could spot Cole among them, figuring that it had to be the first and second graders. Settling in, he stopped trying to spot the door and focused his attention on the little actors instead.

They were already a few minutes into the play when the people around them started muttering. Turning his head he could see Avisignis fight her way through the row to get to them, holding Sera close to her chest. When she’d finally made it, she sank into the empty seat next to him, their shoulders brushing as she settled the sleeping infant on her lap. “Hey.” He whispered, his hand apparently on its own inching closer to her arm for a second before he quickly drew it back again.

“Hey. I’m sorry, traffic was crazy.” She started and quickly shut up when the people sitting behind her shushed. Even in the dim light of the room he could see the smile on her lips though and he found himself smiling in return, leaning back and diverting his attention to the play once again. It was adorable, seeing the little ones jumping around the stage and delivering their lines with enough self-confidence to put most adults to shame. Though Cole didn’t exactly have a speaking role, he looked just as proud of himself, glancing out from under his hat every now and then.

Cullen wasn’t quite sure who moved first but suddenly he felt slender fingers brushing against the back of his hand. It was the barest of touches and yet when he turned his hand to catch them, they didn’t pull away. Instead they slipped between his own, interlacing and bringing their palms together. He snuck a glance at Avisignis but she was too engrossed in the performance to notice. Her other hand was gently carding through Sera’s hair and she looked entirely relaxed.

She didn’t let go of his hand until the second play had finished and all the students reappeared on the stage to take a bow. He spotted Dorian and the Bull next to each other, Cassandra in the second row and then Cole, Josephine and Leliana on the left side of the stage. Cullen followed Avisignis example, standing up to applaud. A strange feeling of loss overcame him, no longer holding onto her hands but he ignored it, not wanting to spoil the moment.

They all gathered in the parking lot again, the kids immediately crowding around Avisignis and asking how much of the plays she’d seen and if she’d seen them too. The next minutes were filled with praise, Avisignis telling each of their children that they’d done a wonderfully and Cullen was sure he’d never seen this much proud joy in one spot. After that, Avisignis herded her kids back to the car. Cullen announced that he had to get back home as well and she hesitated. One hand playing with the keys, she looked at him with an unreadable expression on her features, before wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug.

The whispered “Thank you” was barely loud enough to hear and yet he felt warmth cursing through him at the words. She took a step back and he had to fight the urge to reach out and pull her back in again, hold her closer for just a moment longer.

Instead he turned around and headed back to his own car.


	14. Chapter Twelve aka The Monster

 

Chapter Twelve

 

The first wave of autumn cold hit with full force a few weeks after All Soul’s Day. With the Frostback Mountains looming over them, it wouldn’t take long for the first snow to fall and the wolves to return to the plains. It wasn’t her favourite season but Avisignis had always been taught that winter was safer, with its darkness wrapping itself around the ones living in the shadows like a cloak. Vivienne had been satisfied with her newest book, only having her change a few things here or there until she handed it to print. As a reward to herself, Avisignis had taken the following weeks off, only scribbling down a few ideas whenever they popped into her head. Cullen had stopped visiting twice a week but he was still coming over at least once a week, mostly to gather data for his report, so he’d told her. It was strange how comfortable she felt around him and it was surely partly because he got along with the kids so well but there was something else too. Something that had her recalling the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers, his fingers on her skin.

It scared her.

More than anything she didn’t know what to do with the unfamiliar feeling blooming in her chest whenever she was near him. And with nothing else she could do, she started avoiding him. It wasn’t particularly hard as the kids were all too happy to rope him into their game whenever he was at the mansion and his concern was mostly with them anyway. And that was what she had to remind herself: He was only here because of his work. He was neither interested in her, nor her family unless it concerned his report and the questions he had to ask to satisfy his superiors. And she didn’t want it any other way, she could live without the strange ache and the funny way her heart had started to beat after All Soul’s Day. Surely it was only physical attraction, she’d written enough about love and desire to know the difference.

All too well she remembered the rigorous training schedule at the Lavellan clan and with too much free time at her hands, she found that working out cleared her mind of all the strange thoughts that haunted her recently. One of the perks of being rich was that she didn’t have to share one training room with seven other girls. She didn’t understand why the thought tasted bitter on her tongue.

Still, her life wasn’t bad. She had friends she could trust to have her back, her children were happy and no matter how confusing it sometimes was, she enjoyed Cullen’s presence.

 

It wasn’t until a particularly sunny Kingsway day that she realised that she had gotten _too_ used to the peace.

 

The ringing of the doorbell had become a common occurrence and thinking that it had to be either Gordon or Cullen, she didn’t even move from her seat at the kitchen table as the children crowded into the lobby to open the door. Only seconds later Cole came running into the kitchen, his face as white as a sheet and there was something in his voice that hadn’t been there for a long time: Fear. “There’s a scary man at the door!”

That had her on her feet immediately, reaching for the kitchen knife because it was the closest thing she could reach and she still refused to go for the gun with the kids around. She was at the door in a matter of seconds and what she saw there sent ice cold dread through her veins. The knife in her hand clattered to the ground in a moment of shock and she found herself staggering backwards. Even with the kids’ eyes on her she couldn’t help the trembling of her hands and the panic that manifested in her features as she stared into a familiar face. A face, she hadn’t seen for over seven years ever since its owner put a bullet in her body. Avisignis’ shoulder flared up in pain, almost sending her to her knees with sudden dizziness. Corypheus.

All he did was stand there. All he did was look at her with his yellow eyes, one hand hidden beneath his coat. Images flashed through her mind, his finger around the trigger, the grin curling around his lips as he aimed.

“Mum?” Cassandra asked, her voice shaking and Avisignis found herself thrown back into reality.

She didn’t dare to move, knowing well enough what he was hiding under his coat. Without even glancing at her kids, she said, as calmly as she could: “Solas. Go upstairs and get Sera. You’re going to Gordon’s for the rest of the afternoon.”

When Solas opened his mouth to protest, she snapped. “Go. Now!” It was the first time she’d shouted at him, at any of the kids and even without looking she could feel the looks of shocked surprise. A twinge of guilt tore at her heart but now wasn’t the time to apologise. She had to get her children away, away from this man as quickly as possible. Without another word, they all hurried out of the door, leaving as much space between themselves and the stranger as though they could feel that he was evil. She heard Solas run up the stairs and then return with Sera on his arm before he too, with one last glance at his mother, disappeared out of the front door.

Even then she didn’t dare to move. She couldn’t, her body frozen in a state of shock and fear.

It was Corypheus who moved first, without any sort of hesitation, stepping into the lobby and almost casually pushing the door shut behind him. The same cruel smirk lingering on his face, he pulled his hand out of his coat. She’d been right, she thought, as her eyes flickered to the gun in his hand. She glanced at the knife to her feet, knowing fully well that she’d never be able to reach for it before he pulled the trigger.

“Now, now. I was aware they don’t exactly teach you manners at the Lavellans but I expected at least a ‘hello’. After all we haven’t seen each other for years.”

He stepped forward and she recoiled. This was her home turf and yet there was no way for her to escape him. Even in her own home she wasn’t safe, couldn’t get away from the man who had shattered all her illusions of peace just by showing up at her door. _How did you find me?_ She wanted to ask. _What do you want from me?_ But her lips wouldn’t move.

Corypheus shrugged off his coat, throwing it over the coat hanger as though he was an invited guest. Avisignis waited for him to slip up, to divert his attention for one second away from her and the gun so that she could make a run for the kitchen and get the gun. But he didn’t. He knew her too well. “You know, when I heard that you had skipped town I was very disappointed. And then, seven years later someone tells me that you’re living in Orlais with your own bunch of little brats. You can imagine my surprise. Of all the things I expected-” He gestured with his hand towards the stairway. “This wasn’t it. How do you stand it? Pretending to be a normal person, caring for you little family like you’re not a stone cold killer.”

Avisignis swallowed thickly, her head still hazy and her right hand immediately reached for her left shoulder, pressing into the scar that was sending waves of phantom pain through her body. His eyes narrowed, he watched her. Then he barked out a laugh. “Aah, I get it. You never really got out, right? You might think you did but really, you miss it. You can’t just become someone else because this is what you _are_.”

“You’re wrong.” She whispered but the words were weak and he ignored them completely, cocking his head. The light of the lamp shined on the side of his face and she drew in a harsh breath. She knew those scars, knew the hand that had carved them into his flesh.

He noticed it, of course he did, seeing through her like she was nothing but a piece of glass. “You remember, don’t you? What you did to me.”

She nodded, unable to do anything else. Of course she did. She remembered the stench of blood and burnt flesh, remembered watching him as he crawled away from the fire. She’d watched it all, from safe distance, the warehouse exploding, debris raining down on everything. She’d left him for dead, just like he had left her to die in that alley only a few month later. And she’d died, she reminded herself. Avisignis Lavellan had died in the dirt of Kirkwall. She’d pulled herself up, had taken the helping hand Hawke had offered her and left that part of her life behind for good. The thought comforted her, brought her back to the reality of her life now. The life that she shared with the most wonderful children in the world, _her_ life.

In a sudden burst of courage, she straightened her back and looked him straight in the eyes. “You’re wrong.” Surprise flashed over his face. “This is who I am. I’m no killer anymore. I don’t miss it.” It was only half a lie. Sometimes she could feel the pull, could feel the desire to feel the exhilarating rush of blood and death once again but she’d buried these thoughts long ago. She’d changed. Become something new, something better.

Corypheus quickly regained his composure, the grin that tugged at his lips brutal and cold. “So you really think so. I guess it’s time for someone to remind you that there is no way out of this.”

He raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

The shot rung through the mansion, echoing off the wall.

For the second time in her life, she thought that this was the end.

Her body moved on its own, quicker than any human could, ducking and pulling out of the way. She grabbed the knife from the floor, bringing it up as her legs carried her forward. Another step, just one more step and she could drive it into his chest. She would tear out his throat, would feel his hot blood on her skin and his garbled gasp of surprise. His widened eyes full of a fear that had held her in its grip for so long.

The muzzle of the gun pressed against her temple stopped her before she could bring the knife up to his throat. She was only a step away from him, could feel his breath ghosting over the skin of her face. He was laughing, the sound ringing in her ears and she realised that this was exactly what he’d wanted. He’d played her, had used the instincts that had been burned deep into her brain years ago. He’d forced her to betray everything she’d longed to be and uncovered the monster inside her that had been sleeping for so long. It wasn’t sleeping anymore, rearing its ugly head and staring back at him through her grey eyes.

“I knew it.” He drawled and her fingers tightened around the handle of the knife. “You’re a Lavellan, no matter how much you lie to yourself.”

Avisignis’ mind was reeling, cold sweat on her forehead but her voice was calm, her body no longer trembling. The monster curled its claws around her heart and squeezed until all the weakness, all the compassion was bleeding out of her. This was what she’d been trained for, what she’d been training so long. If he was looking for a fight, she’d gladly oblige. She didn’t fear the bullet, didn’t fear the steel blade of death brushing over her throat. The pain in her shoulder eased to a throbbing ache. Eyes cold, she didn’t blink when he cocked his head. “What is it you want?”

Corypheus didn’t smile this time, as aware of the danger as she was. “I have orders for you.”

Her first instinct was to obey, to lower the hand with the knife and her head, to kneel like she’d been forced to in front of the Keeper so long ago. She didn’t move. “Why would I follow your orders? You have no power over me.”

He knew that the gun was no leverage against her, knew that the Lavellans were trained to see death in the eye and die without batting an eyelash. So he lowered the gun just far enough that it was still on one level with her heart but no longer burning the skin of her forehead. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure everyone sees you as what you are. What do you think will happen when the Templars get notice of this? They’ll lock you up, maybe even execute you. And what do you think will happen to those brats of yours when they do that?”

That had her reeling back, the instinct to shrug it off fighting with her concern for her children inside her head. “No.” The word fell from her lips. The kids. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t threaten her kids. Of course she knew what would happen to them if she was arrested. They’d be dragged back to the orphanage, back to the place where they’d found only misery and loneliness, where no one would understand them for who they really were.

Cole would go back to being a ghost, hiding behind the thick walls of his own mind. Solas would go back to hating the world, hating his own kind and everyone who failed him. There was a chance that Cassandra would be allowed to join the Templars but would she really be happy with this kind of life? Josephine and Leliana, they could make it, they were strong but only together. If they were to be separated, they’d break. Little Sera would surely be sent to the Alienage, would grow up in poverty and fear of those who did not like her ears or her eyes. The Bull, maybe they’d sent him to the Qunari if they would have him. In any case he’d be isolated, not quite fitting in with his own people and even less fitting in with those who made fun of his appearance and his name. And Dorian… with Dorian’s magic still manifesting, maybe growing stronger even and the difficulties he sometimes had controlling it… if they saw him as a danger to society they’d make him a tranquil. The thought of those light eyes dimmed, fogged, that lively voice void of any emotion. A life that was worth than death.

No. She couldn’t let it happen. She had to protect them, had to be there for them. She’d sworn to be their safe haven, sworn to give them a home where no one would hurt them.

Blinking away the treacherous tears that had gathered in her eyes, she opened her mouth to give him her answer.

“What do you want me to do?”

Corypheus smiled.

 

Avisignis was numb. Her body moving on its own as she trudged down the stairs to the basement. Only seconds before her heart had been racing, her mind filled with a million thoughts at the same time, as she watched the door click shut behind her uninvited guest. There was nothing left of the fear, the rush of danger. Without her direction her hands found the handle of the locked door, turned the key and pushed open the steel door. The cold, artificial light blinded her eyes as she entered and shut the door behind her but she didn’t even notice it.

Somehow her mind was as calm as it hadn’t been for years. Orders. There was something comforting in having orders she could follow, having a mark and a layout. She left the file, Corypheus had handed her on the table in the middle of the room and stepped towards the wall. Her fingers brushed over the display. Her knifes were still as sharp as always. She reached for the daggers, testing their weight and finding that they still fit into her hands as though they had been crafted for her alone. Placing them back inside the case, she went for the semi-automatic guns instead, testing each and every one of them. The Berettas were her favourites, not too large for her hands and light enough to wield in every situation. Carefully she placed them on the table as well before she reached for the centrepiece of her collection.

The sniper woke in her hands, as she picked it up from its resting place and its humming resonated within her own body. She’d lied when she’d said that she had forgotten all about this part of herself. With the weapon in her hands she felt more at home than she ever had at Skyhold. Shutting up the voice in her head that yelled at her to let go immediately, to return to the safety of the kitchen, to the life she’d built up for herself. But there was no way she could go back. There was no ‘back’ for her. No matter how much this would break her, ruin everything she’d formed herself to be. She couldn’t let Corypheus get his hands on her children, couldn’t let them suffer because of her past.

She carried the rifle over to the table, her nimble fingers making quick work as she disassembled it and began cleaning it. The Keeper would punish her for not taking care of her weapons for so long. Once again her hands moved on their own, the routine so familiar that she didn’t even have to look as her fingers smoothly cleaned the weapon parts before she assembled the rifle again. It had been made for her, dwarven work, the weight, the length, everything perfectly calibrated to work with her body. The metal was smooth under her skin, sliding through her hands like it had always belonged there. Next were the Berettas. Avisignis took her time cleaning them, weighing them in her hands as though she needed to assure herself that they were still the same. She aimed at the wall, her eyes narrowed as she squeezed the trigger just lightly enough to not fire. It was perfect.

Her ears were tuned to listen to any noises in the mansion and with the silence still hanging heavily over everything, she grabbed the file from where she’d left it. She had only a few hours left to familiarise herself with every crumb of information Corypheus had thrown her and she’d have to use them all if she wanted to return alive and successful.

 

It was almost scary how easily she could lock the door behind her once she heard the sound of footsteps from the lobby. Scary how easy the smile reappeared on her lips, as she climbed the stairs to greet her children. Gordon was with them and she avoided looking at him directly because she knew that he’d realise something was wrong the moment he saw her eyes. Instead she knelt on the floor and pulled each of her kids into a tight hug, apologising for being so rude earlier. They forgave her. It was too easy, she thought, they were too delicate. They all put too much trust in her. A trust she didn’t deserve. Cole clung to her, his nose brushing against her neck as he mumbled something she couldn’t quite understand.

He was the only one who didn’t return to high spirits as soon as she herded them into the kitchen for dinner. Even from under his head, she could see the concern on his face and though he probably knew that something was wrong, she was sure that he didn’t know what. Her mind was blank, numb and cold, there were no painful thoughts he could pick up, only ashes falling like snow on a darkened city.

Gordon stopped her before she could join the kids in the kitchen, his hand gentle but persistent on her arm as he forced her to turn around and face him. “What was that all about?” He asked, his voice urgent. “The kids were talking about a scary man with scars. Was he...?”

Avisignis interrupted him before he could continue with his dangerous questions. Part of her wanted to tell him the truth, wanted to confide in him because she trusted him. But the monster whispered into her ear that she couldn’t trust no one and even if, she couldn’t pull him into this as well. Gordon would never accept Corypheus’ threat, he’d insist on fighting, endangering not only the two of them but the children as well. “It’s nothing. Just someone I didn’t expect. There is nothing to worry about, I promise.”

It was too easy.

The lie didn’t burn her lips, instead it was like cool water, refreshing and light. Gordon looked at her for a moment and when she finally raised her head and looked him in the eyes, he didn’t find what he was looking for. The relief was obvious on his face, though there was still a little bit of the concern left. He believed her.

Too easy.

 

Gordon left after supper and Avisignis made sure that everyone had done their homework before she bathed Sera and put her to bed. Only when she sent the children to bed, tucking each of them in and kissing them goodnight, she felt something tug at her heart. But she pushed it down before it could grow and the numbness returned once the kids were all in their beds. Her feet made no sound on the floor, when she slipped out of the east wing and down the stairs again. A bundle of clothes in her arm, the car keys in her hand, she pushed open the steel door and locked it behind her. It was at the same time relieving and concerning how well the clothes still fit her. The fabric was smooth on her skin. It was designed for movement, assassins didn’t need heavy armour. It wouldn’t hold a bullet but most knives couldn’t cut through it. A wave of sickness overcame her, as she spotted her reflection in the weapons case, the lithe, dark figure. She turned away before the bile could rise in her throat. Next were the gloves, then the coat. The two Berettas in their holsters at her sides and the rifle in her hand, she left the room.

For a little moment she hesitated at the front door, her hand hovering over the handle as she listened. But there were no sounds, the kids in their beds and probably sleeping tightly by now. Only the wind howled around the old mansion and the wooden railing of the stairway settled with low creaking sounds.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was the final step. She’d leave everything behind, her hopes and her dreams. Despite the numbness in her heart she still felt the anxiety gnawing at her brain. And yet, she’d crossed the point of no return long ago. There was no going back now. The monster in her chest spread its wings and roared its fury into the sky. She pushed open the door.

Soundlessly Avisignis moved to the car, not the small bus she’d bought when it had become clear that a normal family car wasn’t enough to fit all of her children inside but the one stored away in the garage. Hawke had left it, saying that she might need it one day if she had to get away quickly. Pushing the rifle into the backseat, she climbed into the driver’s seat, her fingers caressing the smooth wheel for a second before she started the engine. She’d always wanted a sports car, she remembered, the purring of the engine rumbling through her body.

She’d burnt the file Corypheus had given her, all the information stored away in her head. It wasn’t the most difficult of hits, if everything went as planned, she’d be in and out in an hour at most.

 

The darkness welcomed her with open arms as she drove, the silhouette of the mansion disappearing out of sight behind her.

 


	15. Chapter Thirteen aka The Mabari

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Nothing went according to plan.

She should’ve known it, should’ve expected it because even with the professionals things never did turn out the way they were supposed to be. And it was obvious that Corypheus wanted to test her. She’d waited over an hour, lying motionless on a rooftop, the rifle in her hands and her finger on the trigger. The cold had crept through her clothes and seeped into her skin, only to find her insides already cold as ice. Watching every movement behind the large windows, she’d realised after about fifty minutes that the mark wasn’t there. Instead she stared at their wife, the gorgeous woman fussing over her appearance. In any other situation Avisignis would’ve hoped that she’d leave soon, not wanting to spill more blood than she had to. Now she found herself too numb to care. It was the first thing she’d learnt at the Lavellan clan: Killers don’t have emotions. Killers were weapons themselves, a bow strung and waiting to be used, a gun waiting to be drawn. They were cold hearted machines only operating when they were ordered to move in.

She’d thought it would be hard to return to that stage, to purge herself off everything but it was too easy. Dimly she was aware of how much it scared her. It was a nagging feeling at the back of her head.

After two hours, she left her nest. She knew her mark had to be in the building and if he wouldn’t come to her, she’d have to come to him. Sneaking in wasn’t much of a challenge. She cut he telephone and electricity lines, hoping that it would disable the alarm as well. Then she scaled the fire escape and smashed one of the windows of the first floor. The blueprint still vivid behind her eyes, she followed the long hallways, climbed two more flights of stairs until she reached the right story. Two guards surprised her but the darkness hindered them more than her. Before they could reach for their own weapons, one of them sported a broken neck and the second had a beautiful red flower blooming between his eyes where she’d put the bullet.

Running down the hallway, she knew that the sounds would’ve alarmed the mark. Now it was all a matter of timing. She burst through the door, blocking out the yells and the surprised screams of the woman she’d previously watched through the window. Avisignis didn’t want to kill her, a voice at the back of her head begged her to let her live, knowing that she would regret it later. But she couldn’t afford the risk of being recognised. Two shots rung loud in the room and the screams died. Without turning her head to watch her go down, Avisignis proceeded into the next room. The mark was exactly what she expected, a fat, rich man who wasn’t bothered by the lives he crushed under his capitalist thumbs. It wasn’t an excuse to murder him, didn’t justify what she was about to do and yet the thought made it somewhat easier to squeeze the trigger and bury two rounds in his chest and another one in his head. For a second she lingered, catching her breath and staring down at his body. The room reeked of blood and urine but all she registered was the adrenaline rushing through her body, her hands shaking with the suppressed sensation of triumph. This was what she’d been trained for, what she was made for.

It didn’t so much scare her how easy it had been to take the lives of these people. What scared her, beyond all else was how much she enjoyed it.

It was her instinct that forced her into moving again. Out of the room and into the hallway. Down the hallway and out onto the fire escape. Down the fire escape and into the darkened streets of Haven. There were no police sirens, no sign that anyone had noticed what had just happened here. They probably wouldn’t notice until morning and by then she’d be far away, with nothing but her conscience tying her to this place. She tucked the guns away, reaching for the car keys in her coat pocket and rounded the corner of the alley where she’d parked the vehicle.

A whimper.

She flinched, hand flying to the handle of the gun again, as she whirled around. Her eyes were scanning the alleyway to look for whatever had made the noise and her heart was pounding in her chest. No sound left her lips, as she stepped into the shadows, leaving the streetlights behind her. Something moved in front of her and she drew her gun, finger hovering over the trigger, ready to end whatever creature was hiding there. Another whimper reached her ears. It was a heart wrenching sound, even cutting through the numbness in her chest and she found herself shivering. She pushed down the rising dread, knowing that she had to get out of the city before she could let it pull her under. With the gun still in her hand she took another step and suddenly spotted a bundle behind the dumpster.

For a second she hesitated, then she tucked the gun away and knelt, knees scraping over the cold ground, as she reached out a hand. It was a dog, its eyes hooded with pain, the huge head resting on its long legs. When she carefully touched the snout, it whimpered again, too weak to move away. It took her a moment before she realised what kind of dog it was. She’d seen Mabaris before, around Kirkwall and she’d always kept her distance to the enormous war dogs. Her first instinct was to pull her hand back, even injured these beasts could tear a grown man to shreds, they were bred and trained for the frontlines. But the dog nuzzled her hand, looking for help or maybe just begging her for a quick death.

Avisignis hesitated, the gun halfway up to the dog’s head before she put it away again. For some reason she just couldn’t do it, couldn’t end the wounded creature’s life. Maybe it was the rising panic in her chest, maybe she really had grown weak over the last years. Or it was just the same instinct that had caused her to take in the kids, the need to protect and prove herself as something better. Something she wasn’t. So instead of killing it, she reached for the dog again, this time with both hands, trying to pull it up. The dog growled but it was a pathetic sound. The green eyes focused on her face, accusing her and there was an unspoken question of ‘why?’. In this moment Avisignis was sure that the dog _knew_. Dogs knew more about people than they themselves did, especially ones as intelligent as mabaris. The dog could probably smell death on her and yet it didn’t fight when she tried once again to help it to its legs. Instead it heaved itself up and even in its wounded state, with the head hanging low and the legs bent, it was gigantic. The head on one level with her hip, it pushed its nose into her once, huffing out a breath as though to ask her if she was sure this was the best cause of action.

“I don’t know.” She whispered, finally finding her voice again. “I’m sorry.” The dog huffed again and for a second she thought she saw a flash of pity in its eyes. It had to have been her imagination, as intelligent as these creatures were there was no way it would pity her. They made it to the car, half carrying, half dragging the dog along, she helped it into the passenger seat.

She was halfway back at Skyhold, when the reality of her actions started crashing into her. It tore away the walls around her heart, replacing the comforting numbness with a dread that had her hands shaking on the steering wheel and the car reeling out of the line. Sickness rising in her stomach, she pulled over and staggered out of the car before she threw up. She coughed, her stomach constricting until there was nothing but bile in her throat. The dog watched her, its eyes still dulled with pain but attentive. She told herself to get a grip, forcing her legs to move as she headed back to the car. The fog around her mind was thickening and she found she could barely see when she started the car again.

The dog cocked its head, watching her with its head on its paws, making little sounds that could either be noises of pain or understanding. She wanted to reach out and pat its head, wanted to comfort it as well as herself but she didn’t dare move her hands away from the steering wheel. She was going too fast, exceeding the speed limit by far but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she got home. The monster that had carried her along, rested its head, closing its fiery eyes and going back to sleep when she needed it most.

Avisignis didn’t remember how she managed to make it to Skyhold in the end, the gravel of the driveway tearing her away from the darkness in her mind. She stumbled, only managing to pull herself together enough to help the dog out of the car and up the front stairs. It took her several minutes to get the door open, the keys kept falling from her trembling fingers. In a haze, she brought the weapons down to the steel room again, stripping off her clothes before she climbed up the stairs again. The cool air hit her naked body and made her shiver. The dog waited just where she’d left it, too weak to move much further and she half carried it to the lift. The mansion’s silence wrapped around her and soothed the ache in her chest a little bit. The knowledge that her children were still asleep and safe registering somewhere in her mind but it couldn’t stave off the rising self-hate in her chest.

On wobbly legs she made it to the master bedroom, leaving the dog on the rug in front of the bed and dragging herself to the bathroom.

The hot water of the shower burnt her skin and finally the full force of everything hit her. With her legs giving out under her, she slammed into the wall, hands futilely scrambling for support as she fell to the floor. Curling up, she made herself as small as possible when the demons reached for her, the dark fingers pulling at her mind, her soul. Blood, the scent of blood in her nose, filling her head, making her heave again but there was nothing else she could throw up. She wanted to scream, her body ready to explode and she quickly pressed a hand in front of her mouth to muffle the cry that tore through her throat. But no sound left her mouth, only a broken, dry sob that had her shaking uncontrollably.

The water washed the tears away but she could still taste the salt on her lips. Or maybe it was the blood, maybe it was just the guilt that squeezed her heart like a cold fist. Her fingernails scratched over the skin of her chest, wanting to tear it open because she needed space, more space. Her mind was too full with everything, the screams and the sound of bodies hitting the floor, the past and the present mixing together in a blur of anguish. Wrapping her arms as tightly around herself, she started weeping.

 

She didn’t know how long she stayed like this, curled up around herself in the shower. By the time she found enough strength to heave herself up, her skin was red from the too hot water. With trembling fingers she hurried to scrub herself clean, though she knew there was no way to get rid of the blood that she saw whenever she looked down at her pale fingers. When she stepped out of the shower, all she wanted to do was collapse on her bed but she had more important things to do. The routine that had been drilled into her mind commanded her to take care of her weapons, to wash her clothes and report her kill. Instead she looked after the Mabari.

In the light of the bedroom lamp it looked even more miserable than in the darkness of the alleyway. It was starved, barely filling out its height and its fur was clotted with blood. She helped it into the bathroom before carefully starting to wash it. When the warm water didn’t help, she had to cut away some of the fur in order to see the cuts underneath. “Hold on for a bit.” She mumbled and once again she wasn’t sure whether the words were really directed at the animal or at herself. But he dog seemed to understand, its eyes full of a trust that she knew she didn’t deserve. Her hands were steady, when she stitched the wounds, the pained, weak whimpers piercing her already raw heart. At least there were no broken bones, she reassured herself after searching the dog’s body for anything that was worse than cuts or bruises.

Once she was finished tending to its wounds, she helped the dog back into the bedroom and onto the rug it chose for its resting place. Throwing the bathrobe over her shoulders, she forced herself to head down the stairs and to the kitchen to get a bowl of water and some meat from the fridge that the dog would be able to eat. With both in hand she returned to the master bedroom. A pair of eyes watched her, gratefulness obvious in the green pools as it weakly lapped at the water and wolfed down some of the food.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled. Her legs suddenly too weak to make it to the bed, she curled up on the rug next to the dog, her head resting against its flank. The mabari nosed at her hand, huffing out another breath that sounded like a ‘pull yourself together human’ before it too rested its head on its paws again and closed its eyes. Avisignis wished she could sleep as easily as that too but she knew that the minute she closed her eyes, the nightmares would return, driving her insane with blurry images and memories.

 

A few long minutes she just listened to the steady breathing of the Mabari, before she forced herself to get up again. It was almost time to wake the children and she was desperate to occupy her mind with something else so she headed downstairs to prepare breakfast. Staring at herself in the reflection of the window, she tried her best to project a smile on her face but even in the dim light it looked fake. With a sigh, she started filling hot milk into cups, making hot chocolate for those of her kids who liked it and stirring honey into the milk for the others. Another glance at the clock reminded her that there was no more time left to work on her composure and with a deep breath, she went to wake up her children.

 

Her façade held until all the kids were gathered around the table, the forced cheerfulness only falling off her face for a few seconds when the coffee she’d made for herself tasted like ashes on her tongue. She’d almost forgot how empathic children were until Dorian was suddenly standing next to her. She flinched, not having noticed him getting up from his chair. The boy only looked at her, his big, grey eyes filled with something akin to sympathy but not the toxic kind. With everyone staring at her, she found herself squirming but the smile came easier to her lips when Dorian moved to kiss her cheek, the naiveté that only children had on his face, as he told her that ‘everything will be alright’. Avisignis wondered how much they could read in her eyes but she never got her answer as she had to tell them to hurry and grab their bags or they’d be late for school.

Cole was the last one out of the door and she knew that he was searching for something on her mind. “It’s dark.” He whispered, his face contorted with confusion. “I can’t see.” She pulled him close, her arms tight around his little frame, as she held onto him for a few seconds.

“Don’t worry.” She whispered into his hair. “I’ll keep the darkness away.” He hummed in response and when she let go of him, he smiled. There was so much on his mind and yet he was so easy to comfort. For a moment she wished, she was still like that, able to put everything aside to enjoy the happiness her family brought her. Her words stuck in her throat, as she placed the hat back on his head and watched him run after his siblings.

For a moment she lingered in the doorway, watching after them and feeling as though something was being torn from her chest. Then she turned around and closed the door behind her. She fed Sera, changed her diapers and when the baby was content to go back to sleep, she too, crawled under her covers. The exhaustion pulled her under like a tidal wave. Avisignis struggled for a moment, the fear of the demons that would return once she fell asleep too present on her mind. But she was too tired and before she knew it, her eyes had closed on their own and she was floating with the current, deeper and deeper into the darkness.

 

_She was back in Kirkwall. She knew it before she opened her eyes to look at the buildings around her. The stifling air and the smell of the factories was enough to recognise the place. There was a fire, something was burning, the flames too close to her skin, scorching her flesh. With a gasp she fell backwards, even with open eyes still cast in darkness. The smoke stung in her eyes and she felt someone reach for her hand._

_“We have to get out!” A familiar voice shouted. Her sister pulled her along, away from the fire and into the relative safety of Darktown’s streets._

_Her surroundings blurred and the knife was back in her hand. Eyes widened with fear her sister stared at her. “You killed me.” She whispered. And suddenly her face morphed into that of someone, Avisignis only barely recognised. A million faces, a million different voices. They were yelling, shouting at her, whimpering, gasping, crying. “You killed me.” The choir rung in her ears. There were hands tugging at her clothes, her arms and legs. They were trying to tear her apart. There were hands reaching for her face and no matter how much she tried to turn her head away, she couldn’t move. They brushed along his cheeks, wrapped around her throat and dug into her eyes, attempting to pull them out of their sockets._

_She screamed but her own voice was drowned out by those of her victims._

_“This is what you are.” The Keeper breathed into her ear, her strong hands running over Avisignis’ body, grabbing her and pulling her further into the darkness. “I made you. You’re mine, you’ll always be.”_

_Suddenly there was something else, a gentle touch at her temple that was nothing like the Keeper’s greedy hands. Someone was kissing her, her cheek and her mouth. A high whine, a nudge…_

 

Avisignis awoke with a gasp, her body instinctively flinching away from the wet sensation on her face. She would’ve shot up but there was a heavy weight on her chest, keeping her down, grounding her. The room blurred into focus as another whine crawled into her ear. Blinking, she finally made out the dog that had draped itself over her upper body. For a second she wondered how it was able in his condition to still know just how much weight it could rest on her without crushing her. Then she realised that it had been the Mabari who saved her from the nightmare. “You really are smarter than most people I’ve met.” She croaked through her dry throat, bringing up a hand to scratch behind the dog’s ears. The dog made a noise that was somewhere between a bark and a huff that probably translated to ‘of course I’m smarter’. It made her chuckle and for a little moment she buried her face in the warm fur. “You should stick around, everyone’s going to love you.” She mumbled but if the dog understood her words, it didn’t react.

When she grabbed her mobile form the night table, she saw that she’d slept more than four hours. Strange, it had felt like seconds, minutes at most. Still dead tired but not at all willing to try and sleep once more, she dragged herself up and got dressed. With a hyperactive Sera on her tail, she helped the dog out into the garden and watched as it slowly hobbled around the trees, yapping once or twice before disappearing into the bushes. Sera attempted to follow and promptly fell on her butt, when she stumbled over a root. Avisignis was on her feet to save her but the dog beat her to it, appearing out of the bushes again and nuzzling the infant’s face until she was giggling gleefully again.

They spent most of the morning in the garden, Sera in her thick anorak and Avisignis wrapped in a blanket as she watched the two of them play. She only stepped in when Sera got too tactile, her small hands pressing into the Mabari’s wounds. With both of them in tow, she returned to the kitchen at last, trying her best to keep her mind focused on the mundane things. Changing the diapers, feeding Sera, feeding the dog, making lunch for the kids who would soon return from school. And yet, though she tried her best to keep busy, she ran out of things to do at some point. She considered working. Her newest book still only consisted of an outline and a prologue but she was certain she wouldn’t be able to wrap her hands around the story in her state.

So she messaged Corypheus instead, using the burn phone he’d left her together with the file. “Mission Complete.” She typed and was rewarded with a reaction only minutes later. “Confirmed. Await further instructions.”

Avisignis was relieved when Cole was the first to return to the mansion, shortly followed by Josephine and Leliana. The silence of her mind was easier to bear with their chatter around. They were overjoyed to meet the dog, immediately accepting it as a new member of the family, though Avisignis herself wasn’t entirely sure if the dog would be able to stay with them. The Mabari was patient with the kids, once again proving its intellect as he greeted all of them with a shove of its big head and then went back to sitting at Avisignis feet. She wondered why the creature had taken to her so much, surely it couldn’t just be gratitude. Dogs like children were able to sense if a person was good, Hawke had once told her and she’d never doubted the words before. Now she did because there was nothing she’d done to deserve the affection of her children or the Mabari and yet they still stuck with her.

Over everything that had happened, Cullen had almost completely slipped her mind. The confusion and unfamiliar feelings she’d been pondering over only yesterday, swallowed by the darkness that had started to take over her mind. And yet, when her phone rang and she found herself suddenly confronted with his warm voice, she felt it all crashing into her again. For once she was the one who couldn’t find the right words to say. He asked if it was alright to come over later that week and she was almost overwhelmed with the desire to see him again.

“Yes.” Was the only thing she got out.

“Good.” He said in return and she could hear the smile in his voice.


	16. Chapter Fourteen aka Hope

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Her smile was gone.

Cullen had called her earlier this week, asking if it was alright if he came over. Mostly because he had finally admitted to himself that after only a few days, he already missed the mansion. He missed the children and their incredible ideas, the inquisition but most of all he missed the gentle presence that just kind of lingered everywhere in Skyhold. He hadn’t seen much of her the last month, she’d been too busy with work but even so, whenever he found himself in the kitchen, she was just there, making coffee, reading something, typing away at her stories and in a way it was the most calming and serene thing he could imagine. A desire burned low in his chest, to know more about her, to be able to read the secrets that she didn’t tell from the curve of her lips. He wanted to draw her in and hold her, wanted to be the one she’d turn to when she was troubled. He knew he wasn’t supposed to feel like that, knew it was not professional at all but even when he tried to fight it, he’d find himself with his keys in hand, already halfway to his car. Apparently even his subconscious was unwilling to let go of her.

He’d hesitated for too long to inform her that his investigation had already come to a conclusion, had filed the finished report away in a desk drawer and not looked at it ever since. Because as much as the guilt gnawed at him for keeping her in the dark, he didn’t want to stop visiting the mansion. He didn’t want to shake her hand and tell her that everything was fine and she’d never have to see him again. She’d be happy, a bitter voice whispered into his ear, she’d go back to her peaceful life with her kids and Blackwall. He chased the thought away.

Rationally he was aware that he couldn’t draw it out forever. His boss would question him sooner or later and thing would only get worse if they decided that he was unfit to judge the situation objectively. And she deserved to know that she didn’t have to worry about anything, that her home was as good as a home could be for a family like hers. More than anything, the desire to see her happy was stronger even than the wish to keep seeing her.

And so he’d taken the car and driven back to Skyhold on Friday, late enough for the children to be back from school because he was scared of what he might say if he was left alone with her for too long. He was falling for her, he’d realised it a while ago, though he’d tried his best to ignore the truth.

Cullen found himself unable to finish the thought, when the door swung open. Three pairs of eyes stared up at him and even when Cassandra pulled him inside by his hand, he felt like something was wrong. The kids were cheerful, not more or less so than usually but there was something else, something that hung heavily in the air and the weight that suddenly settled on his shoulders seemed enough to crush him. Instinctively he shrugged off his coat and followed the kids, only half listening to their chatter. Cassandra told him about school, about a new girl she’d met and who was her new best friend now and that she considered asking the others if her friend could join the inquisition. Leliana on his other side was quiet but when Cassandra disappeared up the stairs to get her new training sword that she wanted to show Cullen, Josephine tugged at his sleeve.

The wide eyes were too serious for a little moment and Cullen automatically reached out to place a hand on the girl’s arm, trying his best to exhale comfort and maybe give her the courage to say whatever she needed to get off her chest. “Something is wrong with mummy.” Was finally what fell from her lips and he felt his heart skip a beat. Before he could ask however why she would think that something was wrong, Cassandra came running down the stairs again, followed by one of the biggest dogs he’d ever seen. Startled, he took a step forward, old instincts kicking in as he stared in the eyes of the Mabari. He’d fought alongside these war dogs before, had seen what they could do with their strong jaws and sharp teeth.

Cassandra came skidding to a halt and so did the dog, eying the stranger as warily as Cullen was eying him. The children looked back and forth between the two and Cullen was about to ask where the dog had come from, when the animal huffed out what sounded like a laugh and then slowly approached him. He reached out a hand and the Mabari nuzzled him, obviously searching his scent for anything malicious. Then its lips pulled back, revealing two rows of long, jagged teeth in what looked like a smile and huffed out a breath. Cullen figured the dog had ruled him out as a threat for now, he moved to pat its head, and only pulled back his hand when his fingers brushed over a tender spot and the dog flinched.

On second glance the Mabari didn’t look as intimidating as the ones he’d met on the frontlines, too thin and when it moved, it wobbled a little bit. Cullen wondered if Avisignis had found the animal too and had, in her kindness taken it in because she couldn’t bear seeing things that were broken. He’d forgotten about Josephine for a second but when the girl tugged once again at his sleeve, her words slipped back into his mind, sending a shiver down his spine. “Where’s your mum?” He asked and was directed towards the kitchen. The comforting smell of coffee filled the air as he stepped through the door, eyes immediately coming to rest on the figure sitting at the head of the table. She wasn’t working, her laptop closed but she held a sheet of paper in her hand that looked a lot like one of the math exercises Cassandra or the Iron Bull always brought home from school. The door clicked shut behind him and she flinched. Cullen could see the way her fingers crumpled the edges of the paper, knuckles shining white under the skin from the hidden tension.

There was something wrong indeed, wrong with the forced smile that lingered on her lips when she turned around to face him, wrong with the way she got up to get him a cup of coffee. She moved differently, more careful than before, her bare feet touching the ground like she was walking on shards of broken glass. Avisignis looked tired, her eyes sunken in and dark bruises circling her eyes. Even the lines around her mouth looked deeper, harsher in the light of the sinking sun that filtered through the window. With every breath, she radiated exhaustion and something else, something that sat deep behind her eyes and stared back at him, whenever she dared to look him in the face. Her fingers were trembling when she placed the cup on the table in front of him and for a second he was about to reach out, the urge to gently take her hands in his overwhelming. Instead he reached for the cup, the burn of the hot coffee on his tongue enough to have him focus on the more important matters at hand once again.

“You look tired.” There wasn’t much else to say. He could hardly voice his thoughts, hardly tell her that anything she needed, she could ask him and he’d gladly help her out with whatever. He was helpless, caring too much for this woman and yet not entirely belonging to her life.

Avisignis shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’ve just had trouble sleeping. It’s nothing to worry about.” It sounded convincing enough but Cullen could feel that she was lying. The pang of hurt that shot through his chest at that, surprised even him.

“You can talk to me. Anything- if there’s anything you’d like to talk about I mean.” He cursed himself for not being able to find the right words, for not being able to protect her from whatever it was that haunted her. “I’m here for you.”

The smile that graced her lips was no less fake than the one before but it spoke of something else, a lingering sadness. A sigh fell from her lips and she settled back in her chair. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

She didn’t. It was clear as day that she wanted him gone. The way her eyes flickered towards the door, to the window and to the clock hanging over the kitchen counter. She shifted in her seat, fingers ghosting over the side of her cup without actually lifting it to her mouth to drink. She was uncomfortable, skittish.

Knowing that it would be better to leave, Cullen was about to get up, when the door opened again. Cole entered the room, the huge Mabari behind him. As though it belonged there, the dog trotted over to Avisignis, resting its head on her knee until she scratched him behind the ears and then settled at her feet. Its big head resting on his front paws, the Mabari glanced up at Cullen and the intelligence that its kind was so well known for, shining in its green eyes.

“He likes you.” Cole said, suddenly perched on the chair next to Cullen, with his head tilted curiously. “Your scent is good. The dog says, he can stay.” The boy looked at Avisignis when he says that and Cullen followed his gaze. She still had that special smile, that had always been reserved for her children and yet he could no longer feel the warmth radiating off her when it curled around her lips. Her eyes remained distant, hooded with something that sent cold shivers down his back.

Cole didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t show it. Instead he jumped off the chair. His small hand rested on Avisignis’ arm for a brief moment before he disappeared out of the kitchen. They were left alone once more and as soon as Cole was out of sight, the dog closed its eyes. Cullen knew well enough that it wasn’t sleeping, just resting and listening, waiting for something to happen. “They’re good dogs.” He mumbled, unable to look up because he didn’t want to see that look on her face, didn’t want to know that she was in pain and that he couldn’t do anything to help her. “One of them saved my life once.”

Her hands curled around the coffee mug. He watched the slender fingers for a moment, the pale skin stretched taut over the bones. She’d lost weight, he thought, her already delicate figure looked so easy to break now. When she didn’t interrupt him, he continued, not knowing why he was talking about this all of a sudden. He’d only talked to his therapist about what had happened, never to anyone he cared about. Mabe some part of him hoped that it would help her, maybe he just wanted her to see more of him, know him more. “They only send the Templars to the front when the situation is bad.” That much was common knowledge, the Templars were widely regarded as some sort of special ops and they were only called in when everything was beyond fucked up. “It wasn’t my first time in the war zone. Wasn’t the first time it looked hopeless either. We were surrounded, the place was practically a minefield and with the thick fog we couldn’t see more than five feet in front of us. I didn’t even realise that I was running in the wrong direction until I heard the Commander shouting over the com.”

Cullen didn’t register that his fingers had curled too tightly around the mug in his hands. Didn’t feel the burn of the hot porcelain on his skin. Drifting off, he found himself lost in the fog again, the sound of people screaming, the smell of fire and scorched flesh in his nose and the smoke biting in his eyes. “It was bad.” He whispered, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I was alone and I heard them, getting closer and closer. There was gunfire and grenades. I thought I was done for. I was never scared of the battlefield until then. It’s strange, you see so much death and pain and you still think you’re invincible because of the Lyrium…” He took a deep breath, glancing up quickly to find that her eyes were focused on him, their grey depth drawing him in, away from the battlefield and to safer shores. But he couldn’t reach them just yet. “The dog showed up out of nowhere. One second I had that huge Qunari in front of me and the next the Mabari is there, tearing the Qunari’s throat out. I was too shocked to do anything. Could just watch as the two went down. The dog lead me back to my people after he was finished with the soldier, half dragging me through the fog. He didn’t make it. They shot him but he still got me back in one piece. I have no idea how it found me in the first place but…”

Something brushed against his hand. Looking up he found himself too close to these eyes, too close to the warmth of her body. Swallowing thickly, he turned his hand. Carefully, not wanting to scare her away, he wrapped his fingers around hers and when she didn’t move her hand away, a breath that he didn’t remember holding shuddered past his lips. She didn’t apologise, didn’t tell him how horrible it was. There was no pity in her eyes, just something akin to understanding.

Cullen forced himself to speak, knowing that if neither of them broke the silence, he’d do something utterly dumb, like kissing her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you with this, I-“ He stumbled over the words, at a complete and utter loss because he didn’t even know what to say or do. Never before had he felt so utterly helpless, caught between the urge to pull back and leave her space and drawing her in. From the very beginning he hadn’t known how to deal with her, with her strength and determination. Now he wasn’t sure what to do with the weakness, the despair that laid hidden behind her eyes.

“Don’t apologise, Cullen.” Avisignis finally said and he felt that there were more words but they were caught in her throat. Instead, the corners of her lips twitched up in another half-smile that was too hard for her features. “You must think I’m pathetic.” She pulled back her hand, obviously realising what she was doing there in the first place but this time he moved, catching her fingers again before she could flee.

“No.” He rasped, holding onto her hand like a drowning man would onto a life raft. He closed his eyes, trying his best to gather the courage he needed but the words tumbled past his lips before he could even think them through. “I think you’re a wonderful woman and a great mother. I admire you, you treat everyone with compassion and you earn people’s respect. I don’t- I’ve never met someone like you, someone who can stand up for herself like that. You inspire people, your children, they love you because you gave them something they never had.” He didn’t mean to add this part, didn’t mean to let the words leave the sanctuary of his mind and yet he couldn’t stop them: “You’re beautiful.”

For a second he saw something flash over her face, an emotion he couldn’t place. There was pain in the way her lips pressed into a thin line, the way her fingers squeezed his tightly. She was still too close, he thought, as she reached out and brushed her hand against the side of his face. Unable to move, he was falling into the abyss of her grey eyes, pulled in by the sadness. Her fingers were so warm against his cheek and the selfish part of him wished to just stay like this forever. But time never worked the way he wanted and like this the moment passed.

“You think too highly of me.” Her voice was barely a whisper and before he knew it, she’d pulled away. His skin longed for her touch, cold suddenly seeping into his body where only heartbeats before her fingers had rested. Avisignis turned away, her fingers brushing against the table, as she got up and dropped her mug in the sink. The Mabari lifted its head, watching her and there was a protectiveness in that gesture that had Cullen wonder if it had imprinted on her. He saw the same complete and utter trust in the dog’s eyes that he knew the children harboured. A trust that only someone who was completely selfless could inspire. His attention was drawn back to her, when she finally spoke again, not turning around to face him: “It’s better if you leave.” Her shoulders were drawn up, one arm slung around her own waist as though she was trying to keep herself safe, protect herself from whatever it was that had such a strong hold over her.

Cullen didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave her alone like that but he wouldn’t force himself on her. “I’ll have to return for the investigation.” The lie fell too easily from his tongue but she nodded, still not turning around. He hesitated for a little moment, his hand reaching out towards her shoulder but then he let it fall to his side again.

He was halfway out of the door already, when he heard her whisper into the empty kitchen: “I’m sorry.”

 

The next week passed in a blur and yet even with the amount of work that had piled up on his desk, he found himself unable to concentrate fully on what he was doing. He was still haunted by the look in her eyes and the worry was eating away at his heart. He’d considered calling Blackwall because as much as he didn’t like the man personally, he knew Avisignis better than Cullen did and if there was anyone who could get her to talk it was probably him. Or that friend of hers, the Champion of Kirkwall but Cullen had no idea how to contact her. In the end he didn’t because a part of him was still hoping that he’d find a way to help her.

Over the course of the next days he found himself hovering over the phone, more often than not finding himself dialling her number, just to hang up again because there was nothing he had to tell her. He just wanted to hear her voice, he thought to himself, if only to see if it was still shaking when she spoke. He’d pulled out the report again, going over the pages once more. He knew he had to tell her, no matter how much he didn’t want to lose the only excuse he had to stop by her mansion. In the end he’d called her, pushing aside that selfish part of his that wanted to lie to her forever just to be able to be near her. He’d asked Avisignis to come to his office, thinking that maybe this way, without the warmth and safety that Skyhold promised, he’d be able to inform her that the investigation was finally concluded.

What he didn’t expect was the way his heart stuttered in his chest when he saw her walk in. She had Sera on her arm, the little girl clinging to her neck and burying her face in her shoulder to escape the curious gazes of everyone else. Never leaving her side, the Mabari scared away anyone who dared to speak to her. With her head held high and her back straight, she was a sight to behold, strength radiating off her with every step. She looked better, he thought to himself, as she closed the office door behind her, shoulders slumping ever so slightly in the familiar company. She looked less haunted but it could just be the bright morning light that chased away the darkness looming over her. And yet, even under the make-up he could see the bruises around her eyes. Her clothes didn’t hide how thin she had gotten.

Cullen tore himself away from the thoughts when a little smile settled on her lips. It was too tight, too serious and he immediately regretted that he’d forced her to leave the safety of her home in order to see him here. Forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand, he pulled out her file, skipping through the pages and pages of information, riddled with notes in his own spidery handwriting. “Thank you for coming. I apologise that I had to bother you for so long…” He handed her a copy of the report, watching for a little moment as her eyes flickered over the pages. Her brows scrunched up, she frowned, obviously trying to make sense of the document.

“So that means everything is fine?” She sounded like she’d expected something else, the tension in her shoulders speaking of fear and distrust. He remembered their first meeting, how she’d spit the words into his face, warning him to not try and take her children away. And despite the flash of disappointment, he couldn’t blame her. Not when he knew that there were people who did everything to torment others, simply because they looked different.

Giving her a reassuring smile, he nodded. “It’s all in order. I’ve handed it in, there shouldn’t be any further trouble.” He hesitated and the words tasted bitter on his tongue, as he continued. “I won’t trouble you again. Once again, I apologise.” So this is goodbye, he thought and yet he couldn’t help the little spark of hope that glimmered in his chest. Amber eyes searched her face for something, anything.

Avisignis seemed surprised for a moment, then grateful, her features softening ever so slightly, as she carefully pushed the file into her handbag. “It was no trouble.” She finally said and despite all rational thoughts, Cullen felt his heart flutter in his chest, beating its wings like a bird that was trying to escape its cage. He waited, waited for her to continue and say anything at all.

She didn’t.

Instead she got up, shifting Sera into a more comfortable position.

His heart sank. Disappointment and rejection mingling in his head and he knew he should’ve expected it but he’d still hoped. He loved her, he thought desperately, knowing it to be true and at the same time not wanting it to be. He had fallen for this woman with her deep grey eyes and her secrets. How could he have been so foolish? He should’ve known, should’ve handed the case to someone else as soon as he’d started to feel comfortable in her home. He should’ve focused on his work, should’ve listened to the cynical voice that had told him from the start that nothing would come out of this. Why had he gotten his hopes up so high in the first place?

She hesitated, in the heavy silence of the room, their breathing was loud as a storm. Cullen had gotten up as well but not moved away from the desk, his hands gripping the edge too tightly in an attempt to hold onto something.

“Cullen.” She started and her voice filled the small room like it filled his head.

“Yes?” He breathed in return. Surely she thought he was pathetic or creepy. He’d understand if she never wanted anything to do with him ever again.

Before he could lose himself in the thought, she was suddenly there, right in front of him and he had to force himself to look up into her eyes. He opened his mouth and closed it again because there were no words on his mind, there was only her. For a second he wondered, wishing and hoping and then her hand was at the nape of his neck and she pulled him down. Gently, her fingers brushed over his skin and he barely had the time to register what was going on past the storm raging in his chest before their lips met. Too stunned to comprehend it took him a second before he could react, sneaking one arm around her waist. Not pulling her closer, he just held her there, feeling her warmth soak through his skin and fill up every part of him. Their lips brushed against each other, nothing but a tender pressure that lasted forever. His heart beat against his ribs hard enough that he feared, he might crack a rib. Not that he cared. He couldn’t care about anything but the feeling of her right there with him.

The world seemed to have shrunk, until it was only them left. Once again he felt like he wanted to stop time, stop the world from turning just to have this moment last a little bit longer. Cullen could still feel her breath on his skin when she pulled back, the ghost of her touch lingering on his lips. Dumbfounded, he could do nothing but stare at her, his mind unable to understand.

Avisignis smiled and it wasn’t the same forced and painful smile he’d seen over those past two weeks. It was something else, something precious and small and it made him want to reach out and pull her back in again, to just hold her.

“We’re usually home in the afternoons.” She said, the little smile still playing on her lips, as she reached for her bag. “But I can recommend Wednesdays if you want to come by, Wednesdays is pancake day.”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his lips at the familiar words and the pure joy that bubbled up in his heart, as he watched her leave, the baby on her arm and the giant war dog at her heels. It wasn’t perfect, he knew, there was still something else, something darker looming over them. And still he felt like things would be alright somehow.


	17. Chapter Fifteen aka The Fire

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

The strange feeling of tender happiness that had filled her after her visit at Cullen’s office didn’t linger for very long. Avisignis didn’t have the time to bathe in the warmth that spread through her body whenever she recalled the taste of his lips on her own, the strong hand at her back and the erratic beating of her heart against her ribs. And yet, for the rest of the day she felt like she was walking on air, her head filled with so many foreign thoughts and desires it almost made her dizzy. For just this little moment she could almost forget what was waiting for her in the darkness of the basement.

Night fell too early. Before she could understand where the time had disappeared to, the children were tucked in and she found herself trudging down the stairs to the steel chamber that housed her greatest nightmare. This time she didn’t linger to stare at herself in the mirror, to look at the stranger that would have taken her place. Avisignis whirled around when she heard something on the stairs behind her, only to breathe in relief when it was just the Mabari. The dog had been following her every step these last days, never once leaving her side even with its wounds finally healing. Only once had she considered taking it to the animal shelter but she’d already known that she wouldn’t do it. The kids loved the dog, they’d even given him a name, after Dorian had insisted that ‘dog’ was a very bad name for a dog. “Lord Trifles Minuteae!” Josephine had blurted out and after she’d grudgingly shortened it to Trifles, everyone had agreed that it was indeed, a very good name for a dog.

Avisignis herself felt that there was something about the animal that bound them together. The Mabari was the only one who _knew_ , the only one she did not have to keep any secrets from and in a way it was comforting. She couldn’t confide in anyone else, couldn’t tell even Hawke or Gordon that she’d fallen back into her old habits, not because she was ashamed but because she was scared. She was scared for her children, scared for her friends and most of all, she was scared of herself. Of the things she was still able to do, of the coldness and cruelty that ran in her blood.

“Go upstairs.” She said but Trifles only tilted its head, the green eyes staring up at her, not accusing but understanding. There was a question there, a silent demand and as cray as that sounded even to her, Avisignis was sure to know that the Mabari was asking her to not leave him alone. She sighed, not knowing whether it was the right decision but she didn’t have the strength to argue. So instead, she pushed open the steel door and gestured to the doorway. “Come on, then.”

The Mabari huffed out a satisfied breath and brushed past her, without a second of hesitation curling up underneath the table. Trifles watched her as she read once more through the pages of the file, memorising blueprints and key information. There was still time, enough time to prepare and move in. She cleaned her weapons again, not that it was necessary but she needed the routine. With each movement, each piece that she assembled, she felt herself becoming calmer. Her emotions bled out of her, with each breath, she exhaled fear and inhaled determination. The cold spread through her body, starting at her fingertips, slowly creeping up her arms until it reached her chest and then spreading from there. It was easier now, to find back into this state, to detach herself from everything. She felt a hint of fear crawling up her spine, a sickness rising in her stomach but the cold drowned out both. The monster in her chest opened its eyes, waking up from the light slumber it had laid in and spreading its wings.

Her hands weren’t shaking when she stood up from the chair, sliding the guns into their holsters and the daggers into the scabbards on her back. Her hands curled around the rifle, stroking over the smooth metal before she placed it back in the case. She wouldn’t need it tonight, not when she was taking the fight into a closed building. With long strides she left the room, waiting until the dog had followed her before she locked the door again. The hum of the sports car was familiar now, her hands securely around the steering wheel. She glanced over at the Mabari in the passenger seat, wondering if Trifles saw her differently now, if he could see the monster staring back through her eyes. Trifles only tilted his head, barking once as if to say that he was there with her, he wouldn’t judge her as long as she didn’t abandon him. “You’ll be a murderer too.” She whispered, more to herself than the dog. But then again, the Mabaris were bred and trained for war, they probably didn’t care about how morally right or wrong killing was as long as they could protect the soldier they had imprinted on. In a way, she wasn’t much different.

 _“This is what you are.”_ The Keeper whispered into her ear and a smile curled around her lips, cold as ice and brutal. You’re right, she thought in her head, looking up at the larger than life figure that had haunted her for so long, this is what I am.

The city welcomed her with open arms, swallowing her whole like a starving titan. It was different from Kirkwall, older it seemed and with the royal buildings looming over her, she felt stifled, small. The cold air filled her lungs, as she left her car in the parking lot of the small club. Even with the Mabari at her heels it was easy to get through the controls and into the building. She only had to flash the fake ID that identified her as the daughter of a local noble with a lot of influence, enough influence that no one dared to ask any questions. For a second, she had to admit that it really had its appeal to work with Corypheus, the man had connections that even the Lavellan clan couldn’t measure up with. The loud music of the club engulfed her, drawing her in and at her side, she felt Trifles flinch. His ears were even better than hers, she figured it had to be a torment for the creature to move in this crowded and loud place but when she offered him to wait outside, he only whined, making it quite clear what he thought of that.

Blending in was easy if most of the people around her were either too drunk to care or too busy with their own affair to even notice her. Dimly, she remembered the first time one of her jobs had taken her in a place like this, the intense discomfort she’d felt being surrounded by a haze of alcohol and sex. Now that she was used to it, she moved naturally, more like she belonged. And still, there was something about her that repelled people, had them hesitate before they approached her. Something of the cold in her veins seemed to radiate off her. The smile stayed on her lips, as she stalked over to the bar, ordering herself a drink that she would never touch and letting her gaze sweet over the crowd. Of the people there no one really stuck out and for a second she wondered if it was just another one of Corypheus’ tests. It could be a trap, her mind supplied and her fingers inched towards the handle of her gun that pressed into her side almost reassuringly.

With the drink in her hand, she left the bar, expertly moving through the crowd and towards the back of the room. No one payed any attention as she slipped into the shadows, resting against the wall with her gaze alternating between the door and the crowd. She was still trying to spot her mark, when Trifles at her side started shifting, his head turned towards the crowd, ears twitching anxiously and lips pulling away from his teeth in a snarl. Avisignis reacted instantly, the drink forgotten on a nearby windowsill, both her hands curled around the handles of her guns, as she pressed her back to the wall. The Mabari growled, a low, dangerous tone that resonated in her bones. She couldn’t figure out what it had been that had unsettled the dog this much, her attention drawn towards the door, as it swung open. A heavy silence settled over the club as a tall man entered, followed by four or five others who looked like bodyguards in their expensive suits. Avisignis sucked in a breath as she recognised the man at the head of the group as her mark.

The file had said something about two guards at most.

It was a simple act of calculation, the guns tucked away once more, as she ordered the dog to wait near the wall. Slipping back into the crowd, she forced a smile upon her own lips. “You have to be secretive and exciting.” The Keeper whispered into her ear, the strong hands on her shoulders guiding her into a walk that pronounced her hips more than anything else. “Don’t get too close, draw him in.” Avisignis held her head high, as she approached the bar once more, resting her elbow against the cold counter and glancing at the mark over her shoulder. The man was occupied with one of the bartenders, talking with hushed voices.

It was too easy to get his attention, to accidentally brush her shoulder along his as she moved past him. Without looking back, she knew that his eyes were on her, resting on the curve of her arse as she, apparently aimlessly, moved back through the room. It was one of the bodyguards who finally approached her. She was sipping the drink, the alcohol burning on her tongue but not affecting her enough to cloud her judgement.

“My employer would like a word with you.” She gave herself unimpressed, only following the man towards the back room after he had insisted that it was not a good idea to let his employer wait for too long. In any other situation she would’ve felt anxious, excited even. Now there was only ice, ice in her veins and ice in her heart.

She hadn’t seen the hidden door to the backroom earlier, it wasn’t on the blueprints either. It was a perfect opportunity, she thought to herself, the smile that played on her lips only half fake, as she stepped into the dimly lit room. Two couches and a small glass coffee table lined the walls. There were heavy curtains at the window. Iron bars, she registered instantly, the only way out the door she’d entered through. She pushed the suspicion simmering in her chest aside, even when one of the bodyguards insisted on checking her for weapons. “Guns.” The man in the suit ordered and she handed them over, not feeling any less confident without the weight of them. Only when she offered her daggers as well, did she feel a slight loss. The guard didn’t find the knife strapped to her thigh or the small dagger in her boot. She’d fought with less, her bare hands were weapon enough but they didn’t know that.

“Don’t try anything, the bodyguard warned her and she flashed him a charming smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The mark was waiting on one of the couches, motioning for her to sit next to him and she felt a stab of revulsion, as the man leant into her. The alcohol was heavy in his breath, ghosting over her skin. Guilt. The emotion surprised her. Never before had she felt guilty for letting someone touch her but when the man’s hand dragged over her side she felt as though she was betraying someone. Her mind wandered back to Cullen, to the gentleness in his touch that contrasted the way the mark’s hand rested on her thigh Avisignis resisted the sudden urge to push him away, reminding herself that it was just a job. “You’re a weapon.” The Keeper insisted and she leant into the touch, smiling and answering whatever questions the mark asked with lies of her own.

Every now and then she refilled her drink, only nipping at the glass she’d been handed herself. He didn’t notice, the alcohol clouding his mind. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured into her ear and she felt another flash of ‘wrong’. This was wrong, the words were wrong coming from his mouth. Her eyes searched the man’s face for the scar, tried to find the amber eyes but instead she found only dark skin and even darker eyes. For a second she was distracted, unbidden thoughts entering her head. Cullen would be disgusted if he found out who she really was. He thought so highly of her, admired her even for a person she wasn’t. He didn’t love her. He loved a fiction, a ghost created by her desire for a life that wasn’t hers to live.

The monster in her chest roared, burying its claws in her heart. The mark reached for her head, cupping her face and leaning in to kiss her. She pushed all other thoughts aside, forced herself to focus on the situation and leant in. The chapped lips against her own were anything but gentle, the fingers brushing against her throat, rough. All hesitation drained from her mind and the cold took over again. Suddenly it was easy to respond to the brutal clash of teeth and tongues, to let him drag her onto his lap. His hands trailed over her back, coming to rest on her hips and pulling her closer. Avisignis breathed in his scent. The kiss tasted stale, like alcohol and she had to push down the sickness rising in her stomach. Breathing heavily, she backed off the tiniest bit. It didn’t discourage him, his lips latching on her neck instead, kissing and biting. Her back arched as he kissed her collarbone.

“What about them?” She whispered into his ear, letting her own hands rest on his shoulders but nodding towards the bodyguards who watched them with mild interest from the door. “Can’t you tell them to leave?”

The mark hesitated for a moment but he was too far gone, too drunk and high on his own pleasure to realise the danger he was in. “Leave us.” He ordered and when the guards protested, he gave a little wave, the tone of his voice threatening, as he hissed out a ‘now!’. The door lcicked shut behind them and Avisignis could feel the cold triumph in her chest. Too easy, she thought again.

His hands slipped under her shirt and she didn’t stop him, simply arching into the touch and counting the seconds in her head. The guards would be waiting outside the door, the one she’d have to get out through. There were another three guards scattered in the room, if she moved quickly enough she’d be able to avoid them entirely. Ten seconds to get out of the room, maybe fifteen until the other guards reached her. Onehundredeighty seconds from the club to the car if she ran. A moan spilled from her lips, as the mark brought his hands up to her chest, brushing over her bra. She didn’t think about how much she wanted a different pair of hands there, how she wished the voice that whispered into her ear was rougher around the edges. Instead, she brought his own mouth to his throat, pressing a kiss to his pulse as though to mark the spot. His hands tugged at her shirt and she reached for his arms. “Let me.” She mumbled, her own voice dripping low, as she untangled himself from him and shimmied off his lap.

The mark watched, hands resting on his thighs, as she reached for the hem of her shirt and in one smooth movement pulled it over her head. Even in the dim light she could see his pupils dilate. He licked his lips, gesturing for her to go on with one hand. Avisignis smiled. Her hands trailed over the skin of her stomach until she reached the waistband of her trousers. “Like what you see?” The words tasted bitter on her lips, disgust filling her throat, as she saw him nod eagerly. She pulled her trousers down just enough to feel her knuckles brush against the hilt of the knife.

The metal was cool against her skin, as she pulled the knife out of its sheath, the edge ever so slightly biting into her thigh. The mark frowned, opening his mouth to ask what she was doing but before he could get out a single word, her hand was pressed against his lips. Muffling whatever noise was rising in his throat, she didn’t hesitate to straddle him. In a split second she brought the knife up to his throat, the same spot where her lips had been only minutes before. She saw the realisation in his eyes, fear replacing confusion as they widened and his hands came up to fight her. Too late. The knife slid through his flesh like it would through butter, the edge sharp enough to sever muscle and sinew without as much as a hint of resistance. His hands tugged at her shirt, desperately fighting off the inevitable end.

Avisignis didn’t bat an eyelash, as she watched him bleed out, barely noting the blood that stained her hands and clothes. By the time his body stopped twitching, she was soaked, her hands covered in red and the pale skin of her face speckled.

Without a single look back at him, she got up. Calmly she grabbed her shirt from the floor, wiping her face with it before putting it on. Before she approached the door, she pulled the second knife from her boot. Two guards. Fifteen seconds to kill them, grab her guns and get out of there. She pushed open the door and found herself face to face with one of the two guards. It took him one look at her blood stained face to cry out in alarm, hand moving to the weapon at his belt. But she was faster, burying the knife in his throat and pushing him out of her way. She tore the gun out of his hand and aimed it at the second guard. His surprise lasted one second too long, the bullet lodged between his eyes before he could open his mouth to scream. The music was too loud, loud enough to cover the sound of two bodies hitting the floor. Seven seconds left.

Avisignis bent down to tug his Berettas free of the guard’s belt.

She didn’t get the five seconds she’d calculated. Ere she could rise again, there was a gun pressed to her head. “Knife-ear bitch!” A voice boomed. The music stopped. Silence too heavily surrounded them and Avisignis felt that every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on her. “Give me one reason not to blow your brains out.” The guard spat.

Her eyes were cold when she looked up, not blinking, she tilted her head the tiniest bit, the same, brutal smile playing around her lips as she opened her mouth. One single word, loud in the sudden silence of the club: “Trifles.”

The confusion on the man’s face was almost satisfying to see and yet she didn’t get the chance to enjoy it for very long. “What the-“ The guard didn’t get to finish, hand losing its grip around the gun when the Mabari tackled him to the ground. Sharp teeth sinking into flesh, tearing away muscle and bone. For a moment the screams echoed off the walls, then it was dead silent again.

Avisignis abandoned the knifes, instead holding up both of his guns as she made her way towards the door. No one dared to speak, dared to stand in her way. Trifles trailed behind her, the long tongue coming out to lap at the blood that was smeared over his flews. The door was right in front of her, only two steps way, when it was suddenly pushed open. The sound of footsteps had her shrinking backwards, loud voices yelling.

The Templars burst into the room before she had any time to react, the only thought present in her mind was that it had been a trap after all.

“Everyone down!” A voice shouted. Body moving before her mind could even try to form a coherent thought, she ducked behind the counter, eyes darting around to find something that would help her escape. Her heart beat in her chest, the cold replaced by a rising panic. Trifles pressed against her side, green eyes narrowed and yet still full of confidence and unconditional trust.

“Fuck.” She hissed through her teeth. There was no time, no time to think. She had to act quick, find a way out of here. “Ir abelas” She whispered to Trifles, before she grabbed one of the bottles from the counter. Tearing off a piece of her shirt that wasn’t completely soaked with blood, she stuffed it into the open bottle, then reached for the lighter the bartender had used to light the candle on the counter.

There was no time to calculate, no time to come up with a plan as she rose in one fluid movement and threw the bottle.

Despair driving her, she reached behind her to grab another bottle form the shelf and smash it on the counter, using the moment of confusion to throw the lighter into the puddle of vodka. The counter burst into flames. There was too much spilled alcohol, not only from the bottle she’d emptied but from the dozens of drinks the bartender had handed out. Something else had caught fire too, the Molotov Cocktail that she had aimed at the Templars working as she’d hoped. Soon the room was filled with smoke, flames licking at people and furniture alike. The screams filled her ears, as she moved. No one saw her when she slipped out, the panic forcing the Templars to abandon the door and staggering outside.

No one stopped her when she threw herself into the arms of the darkness, following Trifles to her car.

With the Berettas still on her lap, she drove, not looking back at the flames that illuminated Halamshiral or the thick smoke that curled around the city. She lost herself in the darkness, only stopping the car once when her hands on the steering wheel were shaking too badly.

The morning sun licked at the mountains when she finally saw the silhouette of Skyhold against the darkened sky.

The cold was still there, the monster still awake as she pushed the front door open. She hurried up the stairs, flinching only when she heard steps in one of the hallways and slipping through the door into the master bedroom. She hid the bloody clothes under her bed, pushed the Berettas under her pillow for the time being and stepped into the shower. The hot water beating against her skin, she sank to her knees, staring at her bloodied hands.

The water didn’t wash away the blood.

It stuck to her skin, no matter how much she scrubbed.

A single sob tore itself from her chest, shaking her and leaving her screaming against the skin of her arm. She screamed until her throat was as raw as her skin.

When she finally regained the strength to climb out of the shower, the cold of the air hit her like a fist. She stopped at the bathroom mirror for a second, staring at her reflection, without recognising herself. What she saw looking back at her was a monster, a mindless killer, born and bred only to follow order. The darkness curled around her with a magic that was born of death.

Her fingers came up to her face, tracing the cruel smile that had lingered there less than an hour before.

The woman in the mirror tilted her head, her cruel eyes narrowing and her mouth forming words that rang loud in the small room: “This is what you are.”


	18. Chapter Sixteen aka The Truth

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

He’d seen her twice since that day at the office, both times he’d visited Skyhold in the afternoon. With Avisignis slaving over her work and the children around, he’d barely had the time to really talk to her. And yet he’d be able to see that she wasn’t getting better. Even with the smile that graced her lips, when she looked at him, there was something about her that made his chest ache. It was strange, he felt joy bubble up in his chest whenever she was near but at the same time he had a sense of dread curling around his heart. The worry ate away at his brain, cornered him every time he was alone. It was as though they were standing at the edge of a cliff, only one step away from falling into the stormy waters.

She’d cornered him the second time he came to visit. With the children having disappeared up into the attic, she’d held onto his arm, keeping him from following them to steal a kiss from his lips that left him dizzy. Her soft lips had been demanding, desperate even but the very moment he’d brought his hands up to her waist to pull her closer, she’d backed off. As though she was afraid of something, she’d trailed her fingertips along his cheek before hurrying back to her office. He’d watched her, standing in the door of the small room, he’d stared at her hunched shoulders, mesmerised by her fingers on the keyboard. She hadn’t turned around, though he was sure she knew that he was there, hadn’t spared him another glance until he left later that evening. There had been a strange glint in her eyes, her gentle hands trembling, as she’d reached for his arms and pulled him into a tight hug. With the kids around, he didn’t dare do anything but embrace her, burying his nose in her soft hair for just a second.

Cullen hadn’t dared to ask her again, to mention whatever it was that was tormenting her like that but he knew that he had to. He couldn’t stand by and watch her be miserable for any longer. With the determination to make her talk on his mind, he finally drove back to Skyhold. The evening sun crawled behind the mountains, making the rooftops shine red and the trees throw long shadows onto the building. He rang the doorbell, once, twice. There was light behind some of the windows and yet no one opened the door. Frowning, he walked around the building until he spotted Solas in the library. Knocking on the glass of the window, he watched the boy jump to his feet. The lines on his face were too serious, Cullen thought for the hundredth time, as the young mage opened the window.

“I rang the doorbell but no one will open.” Cullen said matter-of-factly and he saw the flash of hesitation on Solas’ face before the teenager answered.

“Mum said not to open the door when she’s not home.”

For a second he found himself too surprised to answer. Avisignis wasn’t home? But it was almost bedtime for the children. His mind supplied that she could just be away to get groceries or visit Gordon but he couldn’t help the concern that settled low in his stomach. He returned to the front door, as Solas had promised to let him in and found himself glancing over his shoulder. The feeling that he was being watched settled in his chest and at the same time a strange dread crept up his spine. It was nothing, he reassured himself, Avisignis was just out to run some errand.

The kids crowded around him in the lobby. No less cheerful than usually, they pulled him into the kitchen where most of them were busy doing their homework. “Mummy said she wants that we have our homework finished, when she comes back.” Cassandra told him seriously and he took his usual seat at the end of the table as he was instructed. Solas disappeared back up the stairs, to look for Sera, as he said because Mum told him to do it. There was a note pinned to the fridge, instructing the children to eat the sandwiches that Avisignis had apparently made for them earlier for dinner. It was a strange sight, the kitchen without her. It missed warmth, Cullen thought to himself, as he distractedly read through the essay Solas had handed him to correct. Only then did he notice that the dog was missing as well.

The evening progressed and yet it felt strangely familiar to make sure all the kids had finished their homework and then handing out the sandwiches he pulled out of the fridge. They settled in front of the Telly, as Cassandra insisted on waiting until Mummy came back. Solas brought Sera back down with him, the little girl climbing on Cullen’s lap as though she belonged there. It was strange, somehow he’d never realised it but it seemed as though he’d been truly accepted into the family. It was comfortable, lounging on the couch with the kids gathered around him. He managed to push the concern to the back of his mind, as he braided Josephine’s hair and listened to Dorian and the Iron Bull mumbling on about something that had happened in school. Cullen only half focused on the cartoon they were watching, he was too busy wondering about this family. Cole tugged at his arm at some point, asking him if he could make hot chocolate for them because Mummy always did that when they were up late watching the Telly.

With eight pairs of eyes suddenly focused on him it was hard to say no and when he searched the cupboards in the kitchen for cups, he found that he remembered every single of the kids’ favourites. The red one was for Dorian, the grey one with the dragon on it for the Iron Bull. Cole’s was purple with bunnies on it and Cassandra’s blue with a knight. Josephine’s was a beautiful gold and Leliana’s black. Solas preferred the white one with the little wolf on it and Sera still loved her sippy cup. He even remembered just how warm Avisignis used to make the milk and how many spoonful of cocoa powder she stirred into each cup. He didn’t question the feeling that curled around his heart, warming him as much as the hot chocolate could, as he carried the tray back into the living room.

When Cole smiled at him from under his hat, he faltered because the boy said something that shook him to the core. “Thanks dad!” The two words were enough to make the entire room go silent. Cullen was unable to read the expressions on the kids’ faces. Cole shrunk into the corner as though he regretted his slip of mind. The rest of them were silent as the picked up their cups.

Only Dorian opened his mouth, the anger on his face obvious as he muttered: “He’s not our dad. We don’t need a dad! We have mum.” The Bull pulled him aside and onto the other couch, where they huddled together. Cullen could feel Dorian glaring at him, not at all sure what he was supposed to say or do. The awkward silence hung heavily in the room.

The clock chimed eleven and Avisignis still wasn’t back. She hadn’t told any of the children where she went. Cassandra said that she’d been dressed strangely and had a big bag on her back when she left. “She took Hawke’s car.” Leliana added and yet no one could say what their mother was up to. Cullen felt the almost forgotten dread rise again in his chest but he tried his best not to let any of the children notice that he was worried. When Cole started yawning, he herded them all to their room, finding that they followed his orders without complaint, when he told them to brush their teeth. Without realising how intimate the situation was, he proceeded to tuck them in.

He was only bewildered, when Cole pressed a kiss to his cheek before he crawled under his blankets. “For mummy, when she comes back.” The boy whispered and Cullen felt a stab of pain or maybe longing in his chest.

Sera was the last one in bed, protesting for a full ten minutes about how ‘Sera not tired!’ before he convinced her that she was indeed very tired. Sitting at her bed for a moment, he felt her little hand curl around his fingers and before he knew it, he’d leant down to kiss her forehead. “Night daddy.” She mumbled and he felt a smile spread over his lips, as he whispered back: “Night sweetheart.”

His steps lead him back down the stairs but his thoughts remained with the children. Cullen fought the hope that spread through his chest. Even if the kids accepted him like that, it couldn’t possibly mean that Avisignis wanted him to stay with them as well. Not like this, not forever. He wanted to stay with them, he realised, wanted to be part of this family. But he didn’t dare to hope that things would really turn out this way.

Somehow he ended up in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand and one of the books, he’d borrowed from the shelf in her office in the other. With his gaze wandering to the clock over the counter every few minutes, he couldn’t really concentrate on his reading though. When hour after hour passed without a sign from Avisignis, he worried. Anxiety crawled up his chest, made him close the book and down one cup of coffee after another. It wasn’t like anyone had told him to stay and yet he didn’t even consider leaving. He needed to know, she was alright.

Cullen tried calling her, only to find her mobile in her office, hidden underneath a stack of payed bills. When it was almost two in the night, he found himself sifting through the papers on her desk, looking for anything that would indicate where she was. It was a breach of her privacy, he knew but the dread in his stomach was making him sick and he found himself cursing her and praying for her safety at the same time. In any other situation he would’ve thought himself childish, he’d think that he was overreacting but right now it was impossible for him to stay calm.

The clock chimed three and he called Blackwall. The man didn’t know anything about her whereabouts either, just muttered into the phone that he’d contact Hawke and that Cullen should call him if Avisignis showed up. He also said that Cullen shouldn’t worry too much. “She’s fine. She’s been in worse situations, believe me.” Blackwall said confidently and there was something in his voice that made Cullen wonder just how well, the two of them knew each other. He stomped on the flash of jealousy that invaded his mind at that, knowing that this was definitely not the time for such irrational things. She’d kissed him, hadn’t she? That had to mean something. He pushed the question aside if it really meant that his feelings were truly requited.

 

It was almost four when he finally heard the sound of car tires on the gravel of the driveway. He’d just climbed the stairs to check on Sera, knowing that she sometimes had trouble sleeping and he felt his heart skip a beat. The familiar sound of the front door falling shut accompanied him, as he moved down the stairs and he could see the shadow of the Mabari disappear into the hallway. Slowly, he followed the dog towards the kitchen, his heart pounding in his chest. Light poured out of the opened door and into the hallway. Cullen approached the door and then stopped dead in his tracks. The woman sitting at the kitchen table was a mere shadow of herself, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around herself as though to keep herself warm and safe. Even in the dim light he could see that she was trembling. Her brown hair was darkened with dried blood, her clothes stained.

“Avisignis?” He asked gently and she whirled around, her head jerking up and her arm outstretched. Cullen felt how the blood drained from his face as he stared into the barrel of a gun. A gun that was aimed directly at his head.

For a second she just stared at him, her eyes unfocused. Her entire body was shaking but the gun was steadily aimed at his forehead. If she pulled the trigger now, the bullet would hit him right between the eyes. A professional, he thought immediately. She was holding the weapon like it belonged in her hand.

Cullen raised both of his hands in a gesture of defeat, trying to stop his racing mind. Avisignis exhaled audibly, her eyes widening as though she’d only recognised him then. “Cullen.” The word fell from her lips, no more than a broken whisper. The gun clattered to the ground and she stared at her own hand as though she couldn’t comprehend what she’d just done. “Fuck.” She mumbled and then she turned around, burying her face in her hands. Cullen found himself unable to move. He didn’t understand what was going on, didn’t understand what had happened to break her like this. Her appearance, the dried blood and the deep bruises around her eyes was enough to send waves and waves of dread through his veins. And yet what scared him most was the look in her eyes. The grey eyes, usually so full of cheer and joy were empty, staring into the distance.

“Avisignis.” He said again and she flinched, shifting away from him when he carefully sat down on the chair next to hers, as though he was going to strike her. There was another gun on the table in front of her, the handle turned towards her, waiting for her to pick it up again. She didn’t move when he reached for it, picked it up. It was in perfect shape, well-tended for and yet showed signs of having been used recently and often.

The words were stuck in his throat but he forced them out, knowing that there was no way he could just ignore this. Not for his or her sake. “What’s going on?” His tone was harsher than he wanted and she flinched again, her eyes wide and full of unshed tears, when she finally looked at him. It was the look on her face that sent a surge of hot panic through his chest, the way her fingers clenched around her arms as she rocked back and forth, mouth opening and closing as though she was choking on her unspoken words.

As calmly as he could, he put the gun back onto the table, far enough away from her that she wouldn’t be able to reach it without getting up. Her eyes flickered towards the gun and then back to his face. “You need to tell me what is going on so I can help you.” Cullen tried to keep his voice soft and void of the boiling panic.

A laugh escaped her throat, the hysteric sound echoing from the walls. “You can’t help me.” She spat, her voice as cold as her eyes and yet there were tears rolling down her cheeks, burning lines of pain into her skin. The Mabari pushed itself between them, resting his head on her lap, obviously in an attempt to comfort her. Absentmindedly she placed one hand on his head, the gentleness of her touch betraying the coldness in her voice. “The only way you could help me is by calling the Templars. Take my children away from me before I hurt them too.” She choked on the last words, her voice trembling.

Cullen forced down the panic and shook his head. The thoughts were racing in his head, a million questions were burning on his tongue but he swallowed them all down, knowing that he needed to stay calm. “What do you mean?” His own voice was tight. He wanted to reach out and brush the tears away from her pale face.

Avisignis’s choked sob sunk itself into his heart like a rusty nail. The pure agony in her features almost too much to bear. “You saw the news.” She finally whispered, her hand tightening around her arm, the nails digging into her skin but she didn’t seem to notice. “The club that burned down in Halamshiral, the people that died…”

He nodded, not sure what she was aiming at but not voicing his thoughts because he didn’t want to interrupt her.

“I did that.” She admitted and he felt his blood run cold. “I killed them. I started the fire. On the same day you asked me to see you in your office.”

Her fingertips came up to brush against her lips and she laughed again, pain and despair heavy in her voice. “You won’t kiss me now. You won’t love me when you know what I am. You’ll take the kids away and leave. You couldn’t love a monster.”

Trifles let out a high whine, his green eyes focusing on Cullen as though the Mabari was begging him to do something.

Cullen was at a loss for words. And yet, even with her words ringing in his head, with the blood staining her clothes and the knowledge of what she had done, the thought of leaving didn’t cross his mind even once. He loved this woman, he’d love her no matter what she did. Even now her hand was gentle as she scratched the dog’s ears, the way she acted around her kids, the kindness she radiated. All that couldn’t have been a lie, he was certain.

“I won’t leave.” He said and when she didn’t flinch as he raised his hand, he took her hand, gently curling his fingers around hers.

Avisignis stared first at him, then at their hands and the cold bled away from her expression. Fresh tears spilled over her cheeks as she frantically shook his head. “No. You have to leave, you need to leave before I hurt you.” Her voice broke and she bent forward, like someone had punched her in the stomach.

Cullen squeezed her hand. “Tell me what’s going on.” He didn’t expect an answer, not with the way she was hurting and still his words were more of an order than a plea, warm but firm at the same time.

She crumbled. The words pouring out of her like he had torn down a dam inside of her. She talked about her growing up, about the uncertainty and the loneliness and the feeling of not belonging. About the orphanage and the horrible life there, the grey walls like a cage encasing her. She talked about the Lavellans, the Keeper with her encouraging words, luring her away from the Alienage and into a life that seemed so much better, so much more than the poverty. She told him about the training, about everything she’d learnt. “They turned me into a monster. We were weapons, nothing but weapons to be wielded by anyone who wished to possess us.” The words fell from her lips like acid and he felt them burn into his chest. “I killed, I killed so many people and I didn’t even care. I never asked why, I didn’t want to. I enjoyed it.” She stopped at that, unable to find words, as a choked sob tore itself out of her chest.

“Hawke saved me. I died and she saved me and she told me I didn’t have to live that way. That I had gotten a second chance and I should use it to be something better. But the Keeper was right, Corypheus was right, you can’t escape who you are.” Her gaze wandered to the gun again but she turned her head away from the sight, the disgust obvious on her face. “I moved into Skyhold. I tried to be better. I found the children and I thought they would be safe with me. I wanted so much to just give them something, give them a life that was better than the one I had. They all believe in me, they trust me and all I do is disappoint them.” Cullen could see the way she was forcing herself to utter those thoughts. “He found me. Corypheus found me after seven years. He was just standing on my doorstep like he belonged there and he told me that I was still what I was back then: A monster. And he was right. They were all right.”

He shook his head, gently, squeezing her hand because he didn’t dare and reach out to touch her face. “You’re not a monster.”

She laughed again, a broken, little sound that was stained with tears. “You don’t know that. He gave me orders and I followed them and I liked it. He told me he’d rat me out, I’d be executed and my kids would go back to the orphanage and I did it because I wanted to keep them safe. But I enjoyed it too. I didn’t hesitate. I just went out and killed these people. Just like back then I didn’t even ask why, I just did it. You should’ve seen it, should’ve seen the man’s face as I slit his throat. You should’ve heard the screaming when I set the place on fire, simply because I wanted to save my own life.”

Avisignis brought her free hand up, looking at her fingers with a mixture of disgust and pain. “The blood is still there. I killed a woman tonight. A woman who was a wife and a mother and who has children of her own she needs to look out for and I just went and killed her. I took her away from them, I deserve to be taken away from mine.” Her eyes found Cullen’s again and he shivered, overwhelmed by the sheer despair he saw in those grey depths. “You pity me…” She whispered. “I don’t deserve your pity.”

Cullen fought off the lingering feeling of helplessness, as he brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “It’s not your fault.” He said as determined as he could. It wasn’t, as much as she blamed herself for everything, it had never been her choice in the first place. The Keeper had abused her youth, her trust to form her into something that she didn’t want to be. She’d used her to kill, used her for her own greed. So had Corypheus. By threatening her life and more importantly, the safety of her children, he’d forced her to do whatever he wanted. When confronted with a situation like that anyone would break. Cullen had seen it before, had seen soldiers on the battlefield turn on each other because they thought their loved ones were in danger. No one was strong enough to deal with a situation like that, especially when they thought they had no other choice. “You were just a child when the Keeper forced you to do those things. And Corypheus blackmailed you, there was nothing you could’ve done differently. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no say in.”

She exhaled shakily. “You’re wrong. I _killed_ those people…”

Cullen shook his head again. Feeling a rush of strength in his veins at the uncertainty in her voice. “You protected your family. You protected your children.”

Avisignis looked at him and there was something in her eyes that reminded him of hope. “Why do you not hate me? Why do you not see what a monster I truly am?”

Following his instincts, he reached out, pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment before she melted into his embrace, her hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. “You’re not a monster. You’re one of the strongest and by far the most caring people I’ve met. You’re the mother of eight wonderful children who love you more than anything. You’re the one who saved them, took them in because you wanted to help them even though you gained nothing from it. You’re the woman I fell in love with and no matter how much you blame yourself for all of this, that won’t change.”

She looked up at that, her grey eyes finding his. “You love me.” She said.

It wasn’t a question but it felt like one and he nodded, his face serious, as he brushed his hand over the side of her face. “I do.”


	19. Chapter Seventeen aka The Phone Call

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

The silence that followed his words hung over them and yet it didn’t feel heavy. Instead she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. There was something in the way he looked at her, something in those amber eyes that seemed to chase away the sickness pooling in her stomach and the pain in her chest. _“You’re not a monster.”_ His words echoed in her head, repeating themselves over and over again. He loved her, she thought, he really did love her and she wasn’t certain whether the knowledge made her happy or scared her. He shouldn’t love her that much she knew for sure. He should’ve picked someone who was more worthy of his affection, someone who had less blood on their hands. And still he was here, with her, holding her like she really was someone worth fighting for and her heart was beating in her chest like a young bird that wanted to spread its wings and soar into the skies.

I love him, she thought then and that simple fact made her falter, made her shoulders go rigid and her head spin. Avisignis couldn’t understand how he could look at her and not recoil in disgust, how he could’ve listened to her entire story and not judge her for the things she’d done. A strangled gasp falling from her lips, she buried her face in his shoulder and cried.

She cried until her lungs were empty, until there were no more tears she could spill. Cullen ran his gentle hands up and down her back, comforting and caressing her until her body stopped shaking. Only when she drew back, did he stop but his hands were still there, resting against her sides in a loose embrace. Avisignis didn’t dare to say the words that were lingering on her tongue, instead she leant in, brushing her lips over his in the gentlest of kisses. It was the way he kissed back, the way his hands curled around her sides and his lips opened to hers that convinced her that all of this was truly real and not just another twisted nightmare her mind had produced. She lost herself in the kiss, tasting her own tears on his lips, as their tongues slid together in a slow, timeless dance.

She needed him, needed his touch and his warmth. Desperately she held onto him, her fingers buried in the fabric of his shirt, as she pulled him closer. They drew the kiss out until there was no more air in her lungs backing off just long enough to catch her breath, before her lips found his again. Her arms slid around his neck, fingers running through his soft hair and then to his shoulders, mapping the plains of his back she could reach. His amber eyes burned into her own, in the light of the kitchen lamp she could see her own desire mirrored in his dilated pupils. She felt the need to be closer to him, to let his fingers burn away everything that stained her skin. She wanted to lose herself in him, wanted to taste his skin and engrave the feeling of his arms wrapped around her into her memory. She wanted his fire to chase away the cold of her heart, wanted him to slay the monster inside her chest so it would never return to haunt her.

Avisignis nipped at his bottom lip, earning herself a low growl that sent a shiver of lust down her spine. Her hands trailed over his shoulders to his chest. A little moan escaped her throat, when he pulled her closer, his hands so strong and secure around her waist. It was only when her hands dipped lower, to his stomach that he broke the kiss, pulling away ever so slightly. His hand caught hers, holding them gently, as though she would break if he wasn’t tender enough. His eyes were dark with the same need that drove her and yet he hesitated.

“No.” He rasped, his voice gruff and dark. “Not like this.” She didn’t understand, the rejection like a cold stab in her chest but his eyes were soft and he brought her hand up to kiss her wrist. “I want you.” He admitted. “But not like this, I don’t want you to do this because you feel like you need to. Because you’re hurting. If we do this I need you to really _want_ it.” His lips curled into that crooked smile of his that made another burst of heat invade her stomach. “And most of all things, I wouldn’t want to do this on the kitchen table, with Trifles as audience.”

She giggled, the alien sound tearing itself from her lips surprising both Cullen and herself. A happiness that she hadn’t thought herself capable of filled her heart as she saw his smile widen. She leant in to kiss him again and there was no heat this time, just a gentle brush of lips and yet it was somehow enough. He pulled her up then, away from the kitchen table. She picked up the guns and led him down to the basement, his warmth at her back enough to chase away the coldness that tried to sneak into her heart when she pushed open the steel door and showed him the very darkest of her secrets. Cullen’s eyes widened as he saw her arsenal, his fingers coming up to rest on her arm for a second before he let her put away the guns.

Before she could leave the room behind, he caught her again, pulling her in and holding her close, his arms tight around her. “I’ll protect you.” He whispered into her ear and she felt herself shiver, not with fear but with some emotion that she couldn’t quite describe. “I promise I’ll protect you from everything, Corypheus, the Keeper. You and the kids, I’ll keep you safe. You don’t… have to go back to doing this. I won’t let them get anywhere near you.” And for some reason she couldn’t even name, she believed him. She believed the words he whispered in her ear, the way his arms tightened around her, like he never wanted to let her go again. She ran her fingers over his cheek and smiled, an honest, tired smile that bled away all of the disgust in her heart.

Avisignis didn’t say anything in return, didn’t need to. She knew that he could read in her face, that he could see through the hole he’d torn into her walls. Taking his hand again, she pulled him outside, locking the door once more before she led him up the stairs. She hesitated once they reached the master bedroom, glancing between him and the door to the bathroom. If he felt the same uncertainty as her in his heart, he didn’t show it, just gently pushed her towards the door. As though he was reading her thoughts, he drew a bath, leaving his fingertips in the water as it filled the large tub to check the temperature like one would for a child. She could only watch him, watch the gentle expression on his face and when the tub was filled, he motioned for her to get in. For some reason, she felt almost shy around him, turning around, as she began to undress and when she snuck a glance over her shoulder, she saw that he’d turned away as well. It almost made her giggle again, the tension draining from the air between them. Once undressed, she quickly stepped into the hot water, feeling it surround her body in a wonderful embrace.

He turned towards her once more, when he heard the water splash and she could feel the way his eyes dragged over her skin, not with want but with something else, something tenderer. Without a word, he reached for the washcloth, drawing it over the skin of her shoulders and carefully wiping away the blood. She relaxed into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his fingers, as he washed her shoulders and her arms. He moved to her hair next, gently massaging the shampoo into her scalp, before rinsing it out again. His hands found their way back to her shoulders, digging into the sore muscles with just enough pressure to have her exhale a shaky breath. As though he’d never done anything else in his life, he started working out the kinks between her shoulder blades, seemingly unperturbed by the little moans she couldn’t stop from escaping her lips. Once he was finished, she felt boneless, exhaustion washing over her like a tidal wave. She sunk deeper into the water, closing her eyes and resting the back of her head against his hand.

When the water had started to cool around her, she reached for the washcloth again, quickly rubbing it over the places he’d left out. Cullen helped her up, one arm around her shoulders, the other under her arm. He handed her one of the large towels and when she wrapped it around herself, she felt clean for the first time in months. He half carried, half helped her to the bedroom, pulling away the covers so she could crawl under them. He hesitated, then, one hand still curled around the blanket. Only when she held out a hand, wordlessly asking him to join her, he moved. She watched him strip, leaving both shirt and trousers on the floor next to her bed before he kicked off his shoes. He slipped under the blanket and curled up around her, his warmth surrounding her. “Thank you.” She whispered into the crook of his neck and his arms tightened around her, his lips brushing over her temple.

It was his heartbeat that lulled her to sleep in the end, sooner than she’d thought and for the first time in months, she slept without the nightmares haunting her.

 

In the end she couldn’t say how long she’d slept, sunlight already filtering through the blinds when she slipped out of the fade’s grasp. She didn’t feel exactly energetic, in truth she could’ve slept for much longer but there was something strange. It was too warm, she thought for a moment, not uncomfortably though but the bed was definitely too warm for only one person to have slept in it. “Mmhm Trifles, I told you to sleep on the rug…” She muttered, throwing her arm to the other side of the bed and expecting to find the Mabari there. But instead of warm fur, her hand brushed over warm skin. Avisignis flinched, disorientation hitting her for a moment. She sat up quickly enough for dizziness to invade her head, her hand instinctively searching for the knife under her pillow. Only when she came up empty handed, she remembered that there was no knife under her pillow. She’d let go of this habit when Cole had started sleeping in her bed, the fear of accidentally hurting him had been too great.

Turning her head she found herself looking into a pair of tired amber eyes and only then did she remember who he was and why he was in her bed. The breath shuddered past her lips as she exhaled, shoulders sagging with relief. Cullen blinked, his face switching from sleepy to alert within seconds, as he sat up as well, his hands hovering only inches over her skin as though he wasn’t sure if he could touch her. She flashed him a smile, fighting off the dizziness. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled, her own hand finding its way to his face to brush along his cheek.

“Don’t apologise.” His voice was gruff, sleep still lingering on his vocal chords and she found a strange rush of affection surge through her. Instinctively she leant in to brush her lips over his cheek. He hummed, his arms sneaking around her and pulling her closer. Avisignis allowed herself to melt into the embrace for just a moment, resting her head against the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent.

He’d showered, she thought, and in a second of realisation, her gaze wandered to the digital clock on her night table. “The kids!” She exclaimed almost panicked. “Oh Maker I didn’t wake the kids, they should’ve left for school hours ago!” Avisignis scrambled to get off the bed, only halfway on her way to the door realising that she was still butt naked and that Cullen seemed strangely unimpressed by the news. There was a smile curling around his lips, a glint of mischief in his eyes that set her off. Narrowing her eyes, she turned to face him. “What are you smiling at?”

Cullen raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to the curve of her hips for a second. “I can think of several things.” Avisignis grabbed the next thing she found and threw it at him, in that case it was the pillow Trifles had rested his head on only moments ago. The Mabari barked, giving her a look that spoke of utter disapproval and Avisignis brushed her toes against his side in a gesture of apology.

Glancing up, she flashed Cullen a mock-frown. “Out with it, Rutherford. You’re plotting something, I know it.”

He hummed again and Avisignis suddenly realised how strangely familiar and domestic the situation really was. The thought made her chest ache with a tender warmth. “I thought you could use some rest. So I turned off the alarm and woke the kids myself. I’m not as skilled as you are in preparing lunchboxes so be prepared to receive several complaints later.” She found herself dumbstruck for a moment, the simple fact that he’d gotten up early to make sure her kids made it to school on time, to prepare their lunchboxes and everything, simply so she could sleep in. Before she knew it, she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her chest constricting.

“I- I apologise if I did the wrong thing…” He started, his voice tight as he saw the look on her face and he hurried to free himself of the covers.

Avisignis shook her head, feeling every bit the stupid teenager she never was, as she reached for him, pulling his hand up to her face and kissing his fingertips. “It’s perfect.” She whispered, unable to find her voice. “Thank you.”

Cullen chuckled, the tension that had turned his shoulders rigid, pouring out of him, as he brought his hand up to cup her face. The intimacy of the moment almost overwhelmed her. With his touch alone he could turn her legs to jelly and she found herself drawn in, bringing her arms up around his neck to press a kiss to his lips. Despite the morning breath she probably had, he kissed her back, his lips not demanding but gentle. They parted after a moment, interrupted by the little whine Trifles let out and Avisignis couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in her chest. Cullen shook his head, kneeling down to scratch the dog behind his ears. “Don’t worry my friend, we haven’t forgotten about you.” He looked up at Avisignis, lips curled into his signature smile and she had to turn away to escape the heat rushing through her body.

In an attempt to escape the too sweet situation, she brushed her hand along his shoulder and headed for the bathroom. Once the door was closed behind her, she felt hesitant, unwilling to look at herself in the mirror because she feared to see the monster again. But when she finally glanced at her reflection, there was nothing of the cold left in her eyes, just a strange glint of something that didn’t seem to suit her at all. Happiness, she thought for a moment and then immediately shook her head at the cheesy sentiment. It wasn’t that happiness didn’t suit her, she was just not used to it, not used to the light feeling in her chest. She brushed her teeth and her thoughts wandered back to last night.

Corypheus. The name alone made her shiver, had the darkness she had buried at the back of her mind, curl it’s tendrils around her conscious. She’d have to deal with him. There was still Cullen’s promise, hovering in the air around her like a warm blanket that was to shield her from the cold. Why did she believe him, when he said that he would keep her safe? What could he do against a foe as powerful as Corypheus? What was it he could accomplish that she didn’t have the means to do on her own? Still, she couldn’t help the confidence his words had inspired in her, the way her shoulders straightened, as she reminded herself that she was not alone with this. She couldn’t keep on going like this, not with the way it tore away her sanity. She had enough blood on her hands already, she knew for sure that another death on the long list of lives she’d ended, would surely break her.

In that moment, when she was staring at herself in the mirror, feeling entirely naked, not only in body but in mind, she promised herself that she would never kill again. Never again would her hand wrap around the handle of a gun, never again would she have to watch the way a person’s eyes widened in fear and surprise.

Cullen was dressed when she emerged from the bathroom. With his shirt crumpled from lying on the floor and his hair still mess, he looked utterly adorable. More than happy to get some attention, Trifles was resting his big head on the man’s lap but once he saw Avisignis step into the room, he barked, trudging over to her to rub against her legs. “Are you entirely sure, you’re not a cat.” She asked him and he huffed out an offended breath.

With the dog on her heels, she crossed the room towards the wardrobe. She felt Cullen’s eyes on her as she slipped on her underwear and proceeded to put on her most comfortable set of jogging pants and sweater. There was something strangely comforting in knowing that he was here, even without the heady heat of desire gone from her body. How it could feel so right, she wondered as she turned around to find him smiling again. How could someone’s presence make her feel so utterly safe?

They headed down the stairs together, feeding the dog first and then having a little breakfast of their own. Avisignis hadn’t noticed how hungry she was until she found the leftover sandwiches in the fridge and she was almost ashamed of how hastily she wolfed them down but Cullen didn’t complain. He let his eyes wander through the kitchen, quietly sipping his coffee and chewing on his own sandwich. They sat for a bit longer, the comfortable silence embracing them. When she glanced down, she found his hand on hers, fingertips absently tracing the lines in her palm. He loved her, she thought again, just to remind herself of it before she heaved herself out of the chair.

Cullen watched her, eyes questioning. “Wait here.” She told him, before she disappeared into the hallway, the familiar sound of Trifle’s paws on the marble floor following her all the way to the office. She stopped dead in the door, eyes immediately taking in the papers on the desk. But then she reminded herself that it had probably been Cullen who’d looked through her stuff last night. Guilt gnawed at her brain, when she thought about how much he had worried about her, how he’d waited the entire night just for her to return only to find her in such a state. Determination squared her shoulders as she grabbed the burn phone from the drawer and returned to the kitchen.

He was still there, perched on the same chair and his eyes lit up when she stepped into the room. _I don’t deserve you._ She told him in her mind but the words wouldn’t leave her lips. Her fingers trembled, as she dialled the only number saved in the contact list and Cullen reached for her hand once more, curling her fingers around hers and squeezing them gently. She flashed him a smile, wondering once more how a simple touch could be so comforting.

When Corypheus’ voice answered her, she felt herself hesitating, too tempted to just apologise and hang up. But she couldn’t do it. She’d made a promise and now was not the moment to show weakness.

Her words were firm, voice not shaking when she finally spoke: “I’m done. You’ve had your fun and I’m not going to do any more jobs for you.”

She heard the amusement dripping from his words. “Oh really? And here I thought you’d accepted who you are. It seems another demonstration is in order.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You don’t know me. You know who I was and you’ve used my instincts against me, you used _my children_ against me. I won’t let that happen again. It’s over. Go find someone else to do your dirty work because I’m not scared of you anymore.”

He laughed. He simply laughed and the cold, hard laughter rang in her ears, burning itself into her mind like acid. “You’ll regret this.” Corypheus finally said and there was no amusement in his voice, just brutal honesty. “You’ll regret turning your back on me. Just you wait. I’ll take everything away from you-“

She hung up before she could hear any more of what he said. All the blood had drained from her face at his threat. She didn’t realise that she was shaking until Cullen pried the phone out of her clenched fist, gently guiding her into his arms and holding her tightly. “It’s alright.” He whispered and his voice was the most soothing thing she’d ever heard. “It’s alright. He can’t do anything, we won’t let him. You’re safe. The kids are safe. It’s over.”

There was no lie in his words, just firm belief.

And yet Avisignis knew, the realisation clear as day that it wasn’t true.

It wasn’t over.


	20. Chapter Eighteen aka Satinalia

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

The first snow fell early this year. It wasn’t even Firstfall yet and already the snowflakes crowded around the mansion, wrapping everything in sight in a thick, white blanket. Cullen had never had much love for the cold season, remembering too well the situation on the battlefield, when the cold would creep into the soldiers’ skin. They’d huddled in the tents for warmth, searching to find some comfort in each other and the portable heaters but it hadn’t been enough. Not when the hands froze stiff when they wrapped around the weapons and the snow swallowed every sound their enemies made. And yet, he didn’t feel the dread of winter as much as he usually did. Skyhold was a welcoming place in these weeks, the large windows lit with warm light, a wonderful heat filling the long hallways and many rooms. He found himself visiting as often as he could with his work in Haven but he never stayed over, always driving back to the cold apartment building that was crammed with dark thoughts and distant memories.

The kids loved the snow. The first snowflake had been enough to have them racing into the garden, their laughter loud even on the vast grounds. It was Sera’s first real winter, her eyes wide as the moon, when she stumbled outside, hands reaching out to the sky to catch the wondrous little things that fell from the clouds. Cullen lost himself in the sight, standing at the window and watching them play. They built snow people, an entire army of them as it seemed, each with as much patience and detail as was possible with eight pairs of hands working on them at the same time. Sometimes Avisignis would join him and he’d marvel at how beautiful she truly was. She looked better now, as though she’d carried the entirety of Thedas on her shoulders before and now that weight had been lifted. Her eyes were bright with mischief and hidden joy, the smiles lingered on her lips, when they crossed her face and her skin wasn’t as pale as it had been before. Whenever he saw the lines around her mouth deepen and worry sneak into her features, he wanted to reach out and smooth them all away.

And now he could, he could just reach out and brush his fingers over her cheek, he could wrap his arms around her and hold her like he’d wanted to for so long. The realisation that she had truly allowed him into her life like this hit him every time and he found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pure joy it sowed in his heart. With the days growing shorter and the nights longer, he found himself wishing he could stay at Skyhold forever. He’d never dared to touch the word ‘forever’ before because he knew just how fickle happiness was and how quickly this ‘forever’ everyone dreamt about could end. Now he was testing it, trying out how the word sounded in his head. He didn’t have the courage to speak it out loud yet, didn’t know if he would be overstepping his boundaries by saying it to her. She hadn’t lost a single word about their relationship, hadn’t told him that she loved him in return but Cullen felt like she didn’t need to.

He could see it, every time her face lit up when she saw him, he could feel it in the way she touched him, the way they kissed. There was a tenderness in her touch, that even the tinge of despair he sometimes felt in the way she acted, couldn’t drown out. There were still times when she’d hold onto him like she was afraid he’d abandon her as well. Times, when she the cold crept into her eyes and the entire room seemed to grow darker all of a sudden. But she trusted him now, trusted him to hold her and whisper reassuring words into her ear until her body stopped shaking and her heart stopped racing. And while he chased away the monsters in her head, she fought against his demons. Her gentle touch was enough to bring him back to reality every time he started to drift off. The battlefield in his head was replaced by the scent of coffee and sunshine he associated with her. The graves were replaced with the fireplace, the voices of the kids chattering on about whatever crossed their minds.

Cullen had seen the look on her face, when Cole had called him ‘dad’ again in front of her, the second of hesitation and his heart had sunk when she hadn’t said anything. But once he spotted the small smile that curled around her lips, the way she turned away to hide it, because she didn’t want to pressure him into anything as she’d later told him, he’d thought he’d explode from the sheer joy.

Forever, he thought again, was truly a strange word. As long as it had Avisignis in it, he’d take whatever forever this world would offer him.

 

Firstfall approached and so did Satinalia. The celebration had been everything everyone was talking about for several weeks now and yet Cullen hadn’t dared to bring it up during one of his visits at the mansion. Avisignis hadn’t mention it either, she’d only told him about the little party they’d have at the elementary school and that other event at Solas’ middle school that she’d have to attend together with the kids. He wondered if it would be alright to ask whether he could come to Skyhold for the evening and he couldn’t help the slight stab of jealousy in his chest when Cassandra told him that Gordon would be there. But as Avisignis was busy with her work, he felt that he didn’t want to bother her with such insignificant things.

The days passed and sooner than he thought it was the week before Satinalia. And as though there was no other time of the year, he was covered under a heap of work, only barely finding the time to breathe. He called Avisignis sometimes, in the evenings when his apartment seemed too lonely and too quiet without the children around. He could hear that she was stressed, busy with the kids and with her work but she always reassured him that she didn’t mind him calling and just hearing her voice was enough for him to make it through another two days of work. Only when it was the day before Satinalia, he remembered that he hadn’t even thought about buying presents. Sure, he’d gotten something for his siblings, he’d already sent them the tiny packages but he hadn’t thought of the children or Avisignis.

It was too late in the evening to go out and buy something so he had to wait for the next morning. The streets were filled with people who obviously had had the same idea as him, trying to find something suitable in the last hours before the celebrations would begin. He found himself lost in the wide streets, aimlessly ambling form one shop to the other, always looking for something that would bring a smile to the children’s eyes. It took him hours to find something for everyone, from the book for Cassandra to the woolly hat for Dorian because he’d notice that the boy had singed his one when he’d argued with Solas the other day. The only thing he didn’t have was something for Avisignis and he seriously had no idea what to get her. What did people give to the women they loved for Satinalia? Sure, jewellery was probably on top of the list, perfumes and clothes were too cliché in his opinion and he was neither very talented when it came to picking out clothes nor did he have any idea what perfume she would wear. If she wore any at all, he’d never really paid attention to that, too overwhelmed by her presence alone.

He hesitated in front of the book shop, the store owner giving him a weird look as he ducked between the shelves for the third time that day. None of the books really struck his interest, he hesitated for a moment when he spotted the shelf with Cinnamon’s books but since Avisignis apparently knew the author personally – she still hadn’t given up that secret, as much as he’d tried to tease some more information out of her – so it would be foolish to buy one of them. His fingertips traced the back of ‘Dancing with the Halla’, remembering the first time they’d really talked and a fond smile curled around his lips. He left the book store as empty handed as he’d entered it, pointedly ignoring the way the owner tutted at him as he stepped out into the cold. It had started to snow again, the thick snowflakes dancing around him, settling on his coat and hair. Barely able to see, he pulled out his mobile to check the time

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the five missed calls. Emergency, his brain screamed when he saw Avisignis’ name on the screen and he hurried to call her back, hoping desperately that nothing had happened.

“Cullen!” She sounded out of breath and in the background he could hear the familiar voices of Josephine and Dorian as they bickered about something.

“Avisignis.” He said in return. “Everything alright over there? Forgive me, I didn’t hear my phone ring.”

She laughed, the sound light and pleasant in his ears and relief washed through him. “Oh no, no everything is fine. I just wanted to ask when you’ll be here because the kids have been bugging me all day when they’ll get presents and cookies and everything.”

He faltered, surprise and joy mingling in his chest. So he was invited, expected even. “I didn’t know I was allowed to come.” He breathed.

Avisignis said something to Dorian and Josephine that stopped their bickering, before she turned towards the phone again. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t actually forget to tell you, did I? Of course you’re allowed to come! You should come! I mean if you have other plans now that’s alright but…” She hesitated and there was something in her voice that was so close to longing that it made his heart ache.

“I’ll be there!” He promised, already hurrying back in the direction of his car. “Just wait for me, I’ll be there soon.”

Cullen heard her relieved sigh on the other end of the line and she almost whispered the ‘That’s good. We’ll be waiting.’ into the phone.

He felt as though he finally understood the spirit of Satinalia, when she hung up. For another few seconds he just stared at his mobile, not understanding how he had come to be so lucky. He was halfway at his car already when he realised that he _still_ didn’t have a present for her. With a muffled curse, he loaded the rest of the shopping bags into the trunk and headed back down the street. Dawn had started to fall and within only a few minutes every store was illuminated by colourful decorations. The streets were less crowded than earlier, as most people had returned home to celebrate with their loved ones. He had a family too this year, he thought fondly, for the first time in many years he had something to look forward to on this Holiday. He found himself back at the jewellery shop, staring at the necklaces in the window but none of them seemed to really suit the woman he loved. She didn’t really wear any accessories apart from that one necklace she’d apparently gotten from Hawke at some point. Silver, he thought, it had to be silver because gold looked so strange on her pale skin. Before he knew it, he’d entered the shop, gaze wondering over the displays.

It felt strange to pick something out for her, never mind the sheer incredibility of the fact that he even got to pick out something for her because she wanted him there and she wanted him at her side.

“Can I help you?” The clerk asked him, obviously noticing the look of utter helplessness on his face.

Cullen nodded. “I’m looking for something… for someone- a woman.”

The clerk tilted her head, a knowing smile on her lips. “So it’s for someone special. You’re not looking for an engagement ring, are you?” She pointed towards one of the glass cases and he found his breath stuck in his throat, as he eyed the variety of beautiful rings. No, no he wasn’t looking for one. He shook his head, desperately trying to push away the thought. How would she react, he thought in that moment, would she even say yes? It was too early, definitely too early for the forever these rings promised and yet he couldn’t think of a finger they would look more beautiful on.

“No.” He finally said, shaking his head once more. “Just something… something special. She- it’s not like that.” But how was it, a voice in his head asked, before he had the mind to steel himself against the intrusive thoughts. She’d never told him what she thought about this, about them. And though it was obvious that she cared for him, he couldn’t be sure what exactly she wanted this to be. He fought off the uncertainty but it settled in his stomach, gnawing at him, as he let the clerk show him around the shop. None of the rings or necklaces she showed him were truly something he could see on her and he was almost ready to resign when he spotted something that immediately caught his attention.

It was a plain necklace, simple silver with a charm that looked like a little feather. Carefully he found himself reaching for it and when the owner encouraged him with a nod, he picked it up. It was delicate, like Avisignis, he thought and he found himself tracing the details of the feather with his index finger. A bird, she thought and it almost made him grin. Of course it would have to be a bird. She was so much like a bird herself, not just because of the Dalish tattoo or the majestic winged creature she shared her name with. A bird who grew up in a cage and broke free of it on her own accord, her own strength keeping her up in the air. It had always sort of felt to him like she could just spread her wings and fly away, leave everything behind with only the children that she carried with her. He pushed the strange thoughts to the back of his mind, wondering if it was only the melancholic mood that had gotten to him.

“I’ll take it.” He finally said, not needing another moment to decide because he was sure it was as perfect as a gift for her could be.

Darkness had fallen over Haven when he stepped out of the shop, the little package secure in the pocket of his coat and he found his heart beating fast with excitement. The anxiety was still there, sitting at the back of his head and whispering bitter words into his ears but he tried his best to ignore it. He’d just ask her, he thought, he’d just ask her and it was on her to either soothe his worries or tell him clearly that she didn’t think of this the way he did. The mere possibility twisted his stomach.

 

Cullen felt his worries melt away when Avisignis opened the door for him. He was stunned for a moment, unable to focus on one thing at once as his gaze flickered from the beautiful smile on her lips, to the elegant red dress she was wearing and that hugged her body in just the right ways, to the white flowers crowning her hair. It was her eyes that captivated him the most, the way they shone with the same joy that made his heart leap wildly in his chest. Before he could stop his hand, he’d reached out, wiping away a smudge of flour her baking had left on her cheek. She chuckled, bringing up her own arms to wrap around him and pull him in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “There you are.” She mumbled and he felt a hint of disappointment when she untangled herself from him again. Taking his hand, she pulled him inside and he had trouble manoeuvring his bags through the door with her dragging him into the lobby.

“You’re just in time.” She let go of his hand so he could rid himself of his coat and scarf. “Everyone’s waiting in the kitchen. The kids insisted that it’s only sweets for dinner but I managed to sneak a few vegetables in anyway, I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

Still a tiny bit overwhelmed, he shook his head. “Not at all. Vegetables sounds pretty reasonable if you ask me.” She grinned at that, motioning for him to just leave the bags with the coat and follow her into the kitchen. Cullen breathed in the familiar scent that was Skyhold, the warmth of the building quickly seeping through his skin and chasing away the cold he’s brought with him from outside. The whole mansion was decorated festively, Avisignis had told him that the kids had been very enthusiastic about turning the place into a winter wonderland. She’d even warned him about the Mistletoes Josephine had somehow gotten her hands on and scattered around the place, mostly because she insisted that it was traditional. He eyed the doorways in suspicion, though, so his mind supplied, he wouldn’t exactly mind being caught under one with her.

The kitchen was alive with chatter, the eight children gathered around the large table. They all looked up when they stepped into the room, greeting him with more or less unified cheer. “Daddy is here!” Cole exclaimed and Sera squeaked in joy, jumping off her chair to jump him, her little arms wrapping around his neck and Cullen was pretty sure that neither of them had actually doubted his being here. He hummed, lifting the little girl up and hugging her close before gently setting her down again. Blackwall eyed him from the other end of the table but when Cullen raised one hand in a greeting, he nodded, the look on his face one of grudging approval. Cullen hadn’t really gotten the chance to talk to the man under four eyes and he wandered what Blackwall thought about him. He probably considered him an intruder, with the kids taking to him like that and especially Avisignis. He’d heard something from Hawke about a tension between the two of them but hadn’t managed to find out quite how serious it had been. He told himself that it didn’t matter, not when it was his back Avisignis’ hand brushed along as she guided him to one of the free chairs.

He suppressed the urge to catch her hand in his, instead taking a seat and watching as she started carrying the trays of food to the table. Cullen offered to help but she just waved a hand, ordering him to sit and wait and so he did. Once everything was set, she joined them, glancing under the table where Trifles had settled next to her legs, patiently waiting for his share of the feast. They all dug in and even the vegetables found their takers. For a while the room was filled with silence as everyone ate, only every now and then someone came up with something funny that lead to a round of laughter and coughing. Dorian practically choked on his dessert when the Iron Bull started talking about their latest adventures with the Chargers and how the young mage had found himself sitting in a duck pond. Cullen could swear that even Dorian’s ears were red when he elbowed the Bull but the grin the two shared was more than enough to convince him that he wasn’t truly offended. There was something about the two of them, Cullen thought that went past the familiarity of step siblings or even close friends. They probably didn’t notice it themselves yet and for the sake of the family he hoped it wouldn’t end in drama.

For now they were all happy though, too happy to dwell on heavy thoughts for very long. They were cleaning their plates in record time before everyone started carrying their dishes over to the think. Avisignis told them to just leave everything but after a look shared between Josephine and Cullen – somehow the two of them had developed some kind of telepathy as it seemed – they pushed both Avisignis and the Mabari out of the room to do the dishes. Blackwall offered to help as well but Josephine ordered him to make sure Mummy wouldn’t come back to help with the cleaning after all. So he disappeared out of the door, followed by Cole and Sera who were of no help in the kitchen, mostly because they were too small to even properly reach the sink or any of the cabinets.

With everyone helping they finished in no time and soon Josephine nodded with a pleased expression on her face, before she ordered them to join the others in the living room. Cullen trailed after the kids, stopping only in the lobby for a moment to grab the bags and the little package from the pocket of his coat. It was cold in his hand and he clutched it tightly, trying to push away the nervousness rising in his chest.

They all gathered in the living room, the soft music from the radio setting a festive mood. Obviously in search of something to do, Avisignis had set up a mixture of biscuits and other sweets on the coffee table and her offer to make hot chocolate for everyone was followed by unanimous approval, as they all settled in their usual spots on the comfortable couches. She just couldn’t sit still for very long, Cullen thought, as Avisignis disappeared into the kitchen again and soon returned with a tray full of steaming cups. He was handed one as well, the sweet smell assaulting his nose and when he threw her a questioning look, she only shrugged. “You can have coffee later, now is the time for hot chocolate and presents.”

He found no fault in her words, and at her mention of presents, a wave of excitement swept through the room. The older kids immediately jumped up to get things from their rooms and it took them several minutes to gather in the living room once again. Avisignis herself had reached for a bag she’d hidden behind the couch and with a satisfied little sigh she settled on the couch next to Cullen. With her side pressed against his, it was hard not to lean in and rest his head on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, her lips pulled in a smile that was sweeter even than the hot chocolate in his hands. “You didn’t have to bring anything.” She whispered and he shook his head, insisting that he’d _wanted_ to bring something.

It took them only a few minutes to figure out who would begin with their presents and in the end the children went first. Josephine got everyone little handmade paper stars, carefully crafted by skilled hands. Leliana had prepared picture cards and Cullen found himself astonished to be handed one with him and Avisignis. It was a strangely intimate scene, Avisignis with her Laptop and Cullen with the files he’d brought from work, their hands joined on the table, fingers tangled together. He wasn’t the only one who wondered when she’d taken these pictures, Cassandra proudly showed off the photo of her in her training gear and Dorian blushed crimson at the picture of the Iron Bull carrying him after he’d hurt his ankle.

Cassandra had gotten all of them books, obviously putting a lot of thought into what everyone would like. Cullen chuckled as he held up his encyclopaedia and she shrugged, announcing that he had no idea what he wanted to read. She’d spent her entire pocket money on the books, Avisignis told him quietly, her eyes shining with pride and unshed tears. Solas’ presents were probably the most thoughtful, he’d picked out little things for everyone. A strange potted plant for Avisignis that smelled sweet and at the same time quivered under her touch, a new pen for Cullen because he had noticed that Cullen’s had stopped working. Josephine got a notepad, Leliana new spyglasses that were welcomed with a happy cry. Dorian got a bunch of runes from him that looked like he’d copied them from his ancient elven textbook and that made the younger boy’s eyes shine. It had to have something to do with magic. For the Bull, Solas had found a little dragon figurine, for Cole a button he could pin to his hat and for Sera a chew toy because the little girl found a great deal of pleasure in chewing on things. For Blackwall, he’d made a little crest, a grey gryphon on blue background, something that was supposed to symbolise the ancient order of the Grey Wardens he’d learnt in school about, since the man had mentioned how much he admired them once.

Dorian and the Bull had gotten everyone coloured rocks they’d found, each shimmering in a different colour, while Cole proudly presented the pictures he’d drawn for everyone. Blackwall had a little wooden soldier for each of the kids, the excited chatter revealing that they were the same ones, they’d painted a few months ago and that he’d finished for them. When Avisignis nodded her head, he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Dorian. The boy’s eyes widened in comic disbelief before his mouth formed a wide smile and he went to hug both his mother and Blackwall. Cullen caught a glimpse of what it was, the boy was holding so close to his chest and was surprised to find that it was a little wooden duck with wheels. “He’s wanted one for ages.” Avisignis whispered into his ear.

Cullen’s presents were welcomed with as much enthusiasm as everything else, the happy faces burning themselves into his memory. The only thing he didn’t hand out was the small package in his pocket. He wanted to wait with that, at least until a bit longer. Avisignis seemed to have come to the same conclusion, as she leant in to mumble: “You’ll get yours later,” before she started handing out her own presents, each something that had the kids sit in stunned silence for a few seconds, before they started a choir of ‘Thank you’ and each hugged their mum until she was buried under a pile of kids, laughing happily while trying to fit them all into her arms at once.

At last, everyone presented Trifles with one of the dog treats that Avisignis had distributed earlier until the Mabari was happily licking all of their faces. With a grateful bark, he finally settled on Avisignis feet again, not moving even when she jokingly complained about how warm he was keeping her feet.

They spent the rest of the evening sharing funny stories, watching the same movies as every year on the telly and eating way too many cookies. Cullen found that even if it had only been a few days, he’d missed this family dearly and with Cole on his lap and Sera trying to talk him into playing with her, he barely had the time to worry about what Avisignis would say to his present. Blackwall and Cassandra had started talking about swords and fighting techniques again, while Dorian, Solas and the Iron Bull were discussing the ancient runes. Or Solas and Dorian were discussing the runes, the Bull simply refused to leave Dorian’s side. Leliana and Josephine were trying to build what had to be the biggest house of cards Cullen had ever seen but with their calm hands they managed to stack card upon card without ever jeopardising the building’s integrity.

It was only when Sera had fallen asleep on Avisignis’ lap and Cole wouldn’t stop yawning that Avisignis decided it was bedtime. Solas was the only one to complain, insisting that he wasn’t tired at all and Avisignis allowed him to read for another hour before it was lights out. Satisfied with that he disappeared into his room without another word and Avisignis dragged the rest of the kids upstairs with her to tuck them in. That left Cullen and Blackwall alone in the living room and the silence that suddenly rested on their shoulders was only the slightest bit awkward. Neither of them really tried to strike up a conversation and when Avisignis joined them, they hadn’t exchanged a single word.

“You seem awfully chipper.” She remarked and Cullen found himself smiling despite his better judgement, as she held up a bottle of wine, she’d grabbed from the kitchen. For a second he considered refusing because he wasn’t sure if he’d still have to drive back to Haven but on second thought, he took the offered glass.

Blackwall was the one to shake his head this time, heaving himself up from the couch. “I should get going. Before I don’t find my way home anymore.” Avisignis protested mildly, saying that he was welcome to occupy one of the spare guest rooms. The older man smiled, his face uncharacteristically gentle, as he looked at her and Cullen found himself feeling strange at the obvious display of affection. Avisignis didn’t seem to notice it and if she did, she didn’t betray any of it, giving him only a disappointed smile and getting up herself to escort him to the door.

In that moment when he was for the first time alone in the large living room, Cullen found the anxiety uncurling in his stomach again, reaching its spindly fingers up to his head and tearing at his composure. He closed his eyes and tried to fight it, only to start when a hand brushed against his shoulder. “Are you alright, Cullen?” He looked up and found Avisignis’ concerned eyes looking down at him.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I just spaced out for a moment.” He smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of her hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear.

She sighed, leaning into the touch of his hand for a moment, before she let herself sink onto the couch next to him. “The kids were happy to see you.” She mumbled, her eyes still on his face and the corners of her lips twitching. “I was happy.”

Before he knew it, her arms were around his neck and she’d pulled him in, noses bumping and lips brushing in only the slightest of touches. “Thank you for coming.” She whispered and he hummed. Cullen wanted to say that he was the one who was happy, the one who had to thank her for inviting him, for letting him be part of this wonderful family, part of _her_ family. But there were no words on his mind that could give voice to his thoughts, so instead he kissed her. Avisignis fingers combed through his hair, as she leant in, opening her mouth to him and he tasted the wine and the sweetness of chocolate on her tongue.

They stayed like this for a long while, simply leaning into each other, kissing until they were out of breath. His hands rested on her waists and hers trailed over his neck, drawing intricate patterns onto his skin that lulled him into a dreamlike state. “Mhmm, your present.” She finally mumbled, breaking the kiss, only to peck his nose before she rose from the couch. She swayed a little, laughing when he reached out to catch her. “You’re a good kisser.” She admitted and he realised that it wasn’t the wine that brought the heat to her cheeks and made her legs refuse to work. The corner of his lips pulled up, the crooked smile flitting over his features, as he watched her pull something out of the otherwise empty bag.

His own fingers fumbled with the package in his pocket, still not sure what he was supposed to say when he handed it over. His attention was quickly drawn towards the thing in her hands though. It was a stack of papers, neatly corded in a provisional binder. “La Pomme Vie et Morte. Book Three” he read on the cover page and his eyes widened in surprise, as he looked up at her. “This is…” He cradled the book in his hands, fingers absentmindedly stroking over the edge of the pages.

Avisignis tilted her head, the amusement obvious on her features. “The editorial edition of the next book. You’re the first one who gets to read it in all of Thedas.” Astonished, he turned the first page, the small black letters drawing his eyes in before her voice tore them away again. “Ah, right. I forgot something.” Her voice was practically vibrating with stifled laughter and he found himself confused, when she gently pulled the book from his hands and reached for the pen Solas had gotten him.

Mischief glinting in her eyes, she glanced up at him before signing the first page with a graceful swing of her hand. The question that burned on his tongue dissolved when he recognised the very familiar signature. She handed him the book once more and his fingertips hovered an inch over her signature. “I guess I should’ve known.” He groaned, burying his face in his hands for a second as laughter bubbled up in his chest. “You tricked me!” He mock-accused her, looking up at her to see that she’d finally broken, one hand coming up to her stomach as she laughed.

“I didn’t trick you!” She defended herself, pointing at him with her finger. “I dropped enough hints for you to figure it out.” A hint of seriousness flashed over her face at her next words. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Cullen didn’t answer the question, instead he grabbed her hands and pulled until she fell against him, giggling until he sealed her lips with his own in a kiss. She harrumphed against his lips but melted against him nevertheless, her tongue flicking out to tease his bottom lip until he opened his mouth, letting her lead him in a slow dance that left both of them gasping for air. “Cheater.” She muttered, her hands still closed around the back of his neck.

“I have something for you too,” was all he said in return, his hand sneaking into his pocket to bring forth the little package.

Avisignis raised an eyebrow, the ‘oh’ more visible than audible on her lips. There was a strange tension in the room when she reached for the package, her fingers brushing along his hands and sending sparks through his body. She pulled apart the paper and her breath hitched. Cullen watched her, as she picked up the necklace, her slender fingers tracing the metal of the chain and then the outline of the feather. For a second he couldn’t read the look on her face, then she leant in to kiss him again, her lips pressing hard against his own. “It’s beautiful.” She whispered when she pulled back again, holding the necklace out to him until he figured that she wanted him to help her put it on. His fingers trembled the slightest bit, when he closed it behind her neck, admiring the wat the silver sparkled on her pale skin. Her fingers came up to feel it where it rested only inches above her cleavage. “How does it look?” She asked.

Cullen swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Gorgeous.” He replied and he didn’t mean the necklace.

He didn’t have to ask her the many questions that had been weighing on his shoulders the entire day. Didn’t have to ask her what she thought about them, what she felt for him because when he pulled her into another embrace, her lips brushed against his ear and she whispered the three words that made his heart stop:

“I love you.”


	21. Chapter Nineteen aka The Abyss

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Calm. Somehow her life had reached a strange stage of calm. The kids were happy, Vivienne was satisfied with the excerpts she’d sent her and Cullen had started spending more and more time at Skyhold. Her life had for once started to be simple, something she’d always wished for. Content, that was a word she’d use to describe what it felt like to her. With everything going so well, it was easy to forget about the lingering suspicion at the back of her mind that she hadn’t seen the last of Corypheus. It was easy to forget about everything, her nightmares only a shadow of what they once were, chased away by the warmth of Cullen’s arms.

She felt safe.

For the first time in seven years she did not lock the doors twice every night, did not check the ticket prices for flights out of Orlais every other week. The news even forgot about the burning nightclub in Halamshiral soon enough, never having discovered the reason for the fire and the ‘nightmare killer’ as they’d dubbed the one who had murdered the noble inside, vanished from the peoples’ minds.

Avisignis’ instincts told her that it was foolish to be so careless, that she couldn’t rest her head now that she was no longer hunted. But for once, she allowed herself the luxury of settling. She fell, harder than she ever had, into the warmth of her home, into those amber eyes that ruled her waking hours and haunted her dreams in the sweetest possible ways. They hadn’t talked about things as they were and yet she couldn’t quench the desire that she wanted more. She wanted things to stay this way, forever if possible, if forever was even a thing that existed. She wanted to wake up every day with his arms wrapped around her middle, with his breath at the base of her neck and his fingers lazily stroking over her hipbone. She wanted to belong, in this man’s life, in this place. The thought crossed her mind that she wanted him to be part of their family. The children loved him, it was the most obvious thing, the way they pulled him up to the attic to play, the way Cole sat on his lap like it was the place he’d always been. It already felt like they were just that, a family. Even Dorian had accepted him, had uttered quietly that he thought Cullen was nice and that he should stay because he was so different from the father he’d known what seemed like an eternity ago.

All in all, she dared to think those words and yet she could not speak them: It was perfect.

Only in the darkness of the night, when she was missing the warmth of the man who still lived too far away for her taste, she wondered if maybe, just maybe things were a little bit too perfect.

 

In hindsight, she should’ve known better. She should’ve known that things could never be like this, not for her, not after the things she’d done. She never truly believed in the gods, not the maker or Andraste or the many ancient elven gods her people tried so desperately to resurrect. And yet, she thought, that maybe this was the gods’ punishment. To show her just how wonderful a life she could’ve had had she not become who she was. Had she grown up in a family that loved her, had she not been tossed away by her clan, had she not been trained to slaughter without abandon and maybe, had she not been a Dalish. Because if the religious fanatics were to be believed, that alone was sin enough.

It was the day before Firstday, the Dales were still covered by a thick blanket of snow and outside in the dim light of dawn the Frostbacks loomed over them, intimidating as usual, keeping watch over all those who lived in their shadows. With a groan, she reached for her night table to shut off the alarm, wondering why on earth she had actually agreed to meet Vivienne even though the only thing she wanted to discuss was the new cover page for the third book. They could’ve done this over the phone or per email or just anything but Madame de Fer was apparently allergic against all sorts of modern technology. A muttered curse on her lips, she heaved herself up, almost tripping over Trifles, who had moved to sleep right next to her bed sometime through the night. “Get out dog, go check on Sera.” She growled and the Mabari shot her an amused glance before he trudged out of the room. Now with hopefully less things to stumble over, she hurried to make herself presentable, knowing that even her carefully planned timetable would be ruined by the kids’ habit to take way longer than they should to get ready for school. Especially Cassandra had started to what felt like hours in the bath, Avisignis wondered if she was trying to impress someone she’d met at school. It was probably that cute girl she’d brought home a few times, though she’d never expected her knight obsessed daughter to fall for a mage…

Shaking her head, she followed Trifles, waking up each of her children before heading down into the kitchen. It was the same routine as usual, coffee for herself, hot chocolate and milk for the kids. Cereals and bread and whatever else everyone loved to eat for breakfast. Chuckling, she imagined how outraged the Keeper would be if she knew that a former Lavellan was spoiling her kids like this. At the clan it had always been dry bread and oatmeal, or actual apple slices on special days. How strange that she could laugh about this now, when thinking of the Keeper had always sent ice cold dread through her veins less than a month ago…

The kids started filing into the kitchen, all of them more or less sleepy, except for Josephine maybe, who was always strangely energetic in the mornings. Breakfast was always a strangely quiet matter, with everyone too tired to talk much they only shared little bits of information about what everyone had planned for their day. “I’ll have to go to Val Royeaux for work but Gordon will come over to look after you when you get back from school. Tell him to just warm up the chicken in the fridge and make pasta or something.” Her words were followed by few questions, mostly it was routine that she would head to the capital every now and then.

With Sera and the dog being the only passengers, she needed to take with her, she decided against taking the bus and instead went with Hawke’s car once more. At some point she’d have to thank her friend for leaving it behind. Honestly, she wasn’t exactly sure if Hawke’s excuse of ‘I might need it if I ever have to get out of the country’ had been just that: An excuse. Because so far she hadn’t returned to claim it and Avisignis found herself using it more and more when she didn’t have to ferry around her eight kids. She ignored the way her heart leapt in her chest when her fingers curled around the steering wheel. The daylight helped to rid her of the invasive memories, helped focus on reality and before she could lose herself too much in the thoughts, she was already on the road.

She still didn’t like Val Royeaux very much, things didn’t really change there and one weird trend followed the other. This time it was feathers, huge peacock feathers that everyone wore on top of their ridiculous masks and Avisignis could barely suppress the laughter as one of the nobles cursed at Sera for pointing her finger at the feathers and calling him a chicken. “That’s right, he’s an overblown chicken.” She whispered into the girl’s ear and Sera giggled happily, clutching her hand tighter as she waddled down the street next to her. They made a strange trio, the two elves and the giant Mabari but at least the people refrained from acidic looks and whispered insults as soon as they laid eyes on the war dog. It sure did have its advantages to bring Trifles along.

Vivienne greeted her with the same overbearing friendliness that she always presented herself with, though Avisignis wondered if the woman really did like her somewhat. Because the kisses the mage pressed to her cheeks lasted a split second longer than they’d used to and there was the fact that she neither tried to touch Sera, or lecture her about how inappropriate it was to bring the Mabari inside her office. She just threw one sceptic look at the dog that had settled next to Sera on the floor and then went ahead to present Avisignis with the cover pages her designers had come up with. Avisignis had never really cared much about the presentation of her books, thinking that as long as the content was good enough it didn’t really matter whether the cover was pink or orange. Vivienne however was completely in her element, talking about this and that and how colours tended to affect people’s emotions or how certain colours were bought more frequently than others. In the end it was really more Vivienne handing her several images and she just randomly picked the one that looked the least like a painting someone would put on their wall.

With that out of the way, she attempted to tell Vivienne about the progress of the fourth book, the ideas she had but the woman only waved her hand. “You just write, darling. I trust you to come up with something absolutely brilliant.” Avisignis wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered by the trust the mage put in her or mortified because of it. Probably the latter.

With Sera on her hand, she left the building, as always ignoring the receptionist who still didn’t like her very much. The crisp winter air hit her like a punch in the face and she checked that Sera was bundled up in her warm anorak before she wrapped her own scarf tighter around her face. Trifles seemed to enjoy the weather as much as any other, not really bothered by the cold. Ferelden was colder than Orlais, she remembered as she watched the dog lick a bit of snow off little Sera’s arm, he was probably used to it. Sometimes she wished she could ask Trifles about his story, or well, she did ask but the Mabari had obviously only answered in barks indicating that he probably understand but wasn’t quite able to get his point across. She wondered how he had ended up in Haven, wounded and crouched behind a dumpster. There had to be a story there but she probably would never uncover it.

They lingered a bit in the city, her feet almost involuntarily carrying her to the bookstore she always visited when she was there. Gordon didn’t expect her back until the late afternoon and she had enough time to show Sera a few of the picture books she pointed at until she’d picked out one she really liked. They had tea and biscuits at a café nearby and stopped by the orphanage for a little chat with Sister Elisabeth. They were already back at the car when her mobile rang. For a split second she expected it to be Cullen, an excitement bubbling up in her chest that never quite faded even now. It was Gordon. She tried to swallow the initial disappointment, asking him if there was something he needed from the city before she drove back.

It was the tone of his voice that chased away every other thought in her head.

 

“Cassandra hasn’t come home.”

 

Her thoughts crashed to a halt, the words she’d meant to say wilted on her tongue. “What?” She croaked, leaning against the door of the door because it seemed as though someone had pulled the ground from under her feet and her legs suddenly refused to support her weight.

“She’s not here. The Bull says she had detention so she had to stay longer but we waited and she didn’t take the next bus either.”

Avisignis found herself desperate to keep her mind in check, not willing to let it wander to those darker places once more. “Call Sister Giselle, she’s her homeroom teacher. Ask her if she knows if Cassandra went home with her friend Skua.”

Gordon was silent for a little moment and Avisignis felt her heart sink in her chest as she half expected him to say something even worse. He didn’t voice his suspicion, knowing fully well that she had come to the conclusion herself moments ago. Instead he agreed, his voice tight, as he promised to call the school and ask for Cassandra. “I’ll keep you up to date.” He said and then he hung up and Avisignis was left alone with the silence of her mind. Cruel voices whispered into her ears, cruel thoughts sneaking into her brain.

The Keeper was there once more, not as the funny figure she’d imaged that morning but as the same, menacing presence she’d always been. Her eyes were cold and her hands reaching for Avisignis’ arms, grasping her tightly. “It’s your fault.” The woman whispers and the words are ice on her skin. “It’s your fault for believing you could be happy.”

She knew it. She knew she should’ve never let herself fall for the delusion that things could be alright. Closing her eyes, she counted, counted until Sera tugged at her sleeve, the little mouth shut tight and the bright eyes wide with confusion. She counted until Trifles high whine tore through her head. Then she opened her eyes and got in the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel like she was trying to break it.

She barely noticed how fast she was driving, paying no mind to speed limits or traffic lights. Home, she needed to get home, that was the only thought on her mind, the only thought that counted. Every five minutes she glanced at the mobile in her lap, wished that it would ring and relieve her of her worries but it stayed still. All she wanted was for Gordon to call, tell her that it was all just a mistake. That Cassandra had indeed gone home with her friend and just forgotten to tell them. Only that at the back of her mind she already knew that it wouldn’t happen. She knew exactly what had happened, knew well enough that there was only one reason why the girl wouldn’t be home at this time of the afternoon, she just refused to think it out loud. Trifles was quiet on the seat next to her, his green eyes filled with something that Avisignis could only identify as worry. Whether it was because the Mabari had somehow figured out the situation or because he simply felt his owner’s agitation, she couldn’t quite tell. Not that it mattered. In his face she found the reflection of what was tearing her heart apart, worry and with every passing minute that the phone was silent, a steadily rising panic.

The car sped through the dawn that spread too quickly over the countryside. Dimly she was aware that she needed to stay calm but the cold she was longing for so dearly in this moment wouldn’t take its place in her heart. For the first time in her life she missed the numbness, missed the monster that could crush all those insignificant thoughts and concerns under its claws. But it was gone, it had left her the moment she’d decided to lead a truly normal and happy life. The irony tasted bitter on her tongue, forced a laugh out of her throat that had Sera whimpering in the backseat. Guilt gnawed at her but she didn’t turn around to tend to the infant, her eyes glued to the road in front of her because she was sure if she only looked away once she’d sent the car right off the road. “It’s your fault.” The Keeper said again and she was right. It was her fault for believing that she could help these children that she could give them a home and a life and that she could protect them from the Damocles sword that was hanging over her own head. Her past was her own, she’d thought and that foolish belief had caught up with her now, laughing in her face about how she could’ve been so naïve.

Pulling into the driveway only two hours later, she swallowed around the tears rising in her throat. She realised that she was being too harsh, when she simply lifted Sera up on her arms because there was no time to wait until the girl had waddled up the stairs. Sera complained, little hands hitting her in the face and she bit her tongue before she could snarl at the kid to stay still. Gordon opened the door before she could fish her keys out of her pocket and what she saw in his face made her heart skip a beat and her world began to crumble around her.

“The teacher said she hasn’t seen Cassandra after detention. Her friend wasn’t there either. They asked if they should call the guard but I told them to wait.”

Avisignis hands trembled so badly she had to put Sera down before she’d drop her. No words left on her tongue to say, she only nodded numbly. He caught her as she sank against the doorframe, his arms strong on her own as he gently helped her inside. Gordon didn’t say anything, didn’t tell her that it would be alright, because he knew better. He knew just as well as she did that there was no getting better in this situation. “We can’t call the guard.” She said quietly, her eyes focused on something that wasn’t even there. He nodded, understanding because they both had secrets that had to stay uncovered, buried deep beneath the ground they built their new lives on.

A life she was never supposed to have.

Somehow they made it to the kitchen, Trifles trailing behind them as Gordon half carried her, her limbs suddenly too weak to function. The kids were there, all seven of them gathered around the kitchen table but it was too quiet. Skyhold was never quiet when the kids were there, always filled with chatter and laughter and sometimes shouting. Now it was just dead silence, seven pairs of eyes boring into her. Faces filled with uncertainty, fear, confusion, she couldn’t bear to look at them, couldn’t bear tell them that because of her, Cassandra had disappeared.

“You can all stay with me tonight.” Gordon offered, his gaze flickering to the window. Avisignis shook her head and then nodded. He was right, they knew about Skyhold, they knew too much about the mansion probably. And there was no guarantee that the kids would be safe her, not with the certainty hanging over their heads that someone was out to tear this family apart. All things considering there was a possibility that there were people watching them right this minute because if there was one thing their enemy was, it was thorough.

Avisignis looked up at him, her voice steel as she finally found the right words. “Take the kids. Don’t let them out of your sight. I take it you still have some of your equipment?”

The man watched her for a moment, hesitating, before he bowed his head. “I do. But what about you?”

She huffed out a breath, the question sounding almost ridiculous in her ears. What about her? She was the reason for all of this, she had dragged the children into something they didn’t deserve. “I’ll stay. If he finds the mansion empty he’ll go looking.”

The both knew who she meant. She didn’t have to say the name for Gordon to understand. Because there was only one person who could be behind this.

Gordon acted without any further hesitation, too professional to waste any more time. He rounded up the kids and made them pack their things. Avisignis couldn’t move, couldn’t get up from her chair even when Dorian hugged her knees. “What’s wrong, mummy? Why do we have to go?” She shook her head, unable to get her vocal chords to work.

“I’m sorry.” She mouthed and Dorian hugged her tighter, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I don’t want to go.” He whimpered and she saw the same fear in his eyes that pierced her own heart.

Avisignis pried him away from her legs, her hands too gentle for the dread coursing through her system. “Gordon will take care of you.” He shook his head, not understanding, not wanting to leave her and Avisignis was relieved when the Iron Bull pulled him away.

They left and she was alone in the kitchen.

The emptiness seeped through her skin as she stared at the door, waiting for something that would never happen. There were no miracles in this world, it was too cold, too cruel. Miracles only ever happened in stories. There was no saviour who would come to guide her, no knight in shining armour to bring Cassandra back and protect all of them against the rage of a single man.

Trifles pushed the door open with his snout, trudging over to her and resting his big head on her knees. “You’re still here.” She mumbled, her hand coming up to scratch his neck. He huffed out a breath. Of course I am. The most loyal of companions, she thought, the one who wouldn’t abandon her, not even when she ordered him to. Disregarding his own safety he would follow her through fire and death. “You’re too good for me.”

 

Avisignis didn’t realise how long she’d been sitting at the kitchen table, staring out of the window as though she actually expected for a stray bullet to shatter the glass. She could’ve taken the shot, she thought and then discarded the thought because Corypheus didn’t want her dead. No, he wanted to torment her, he wouldn’t have taken Cassandra if he’d just wanted her dead to his feet. There was more behind it and that simple knowledge had her shivering with fear. She knew Gordon could protect the kids, knew that he could take out just about anything that would try to harm them. She didn’t worry about them too much. She worried about how this night would end.

It was the doorbell that finally caused her to move. She took her time, heading down the stairs to grab the Berettas before she went back to the lobby. Glancing down at Trifles she was confused for the slightest moment. The Mabari was too relaxed, too calm for it to be a stranger. Could it be Gordon? But she’d told him to not return to the mansion until she gave him the green light.

She opened the door. Amber met grey. Her heart stuttered.

He looked too good, too cheerful, the smile only falling from her lips, when his eyes flickered to the guns in her hands, to the expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked carefully.

Avisignis snapped.

Before she knew it, she’d discarded the gun. Her limbs moved before she had the time to think about what she was doing. She punched him square in her face, her knuckles crunching as they connected with his jawbone, sending him stumbling backwards. “You!” She shouted and her voice was shrill in her ears. “You promised to protect them! You said you’d protect them from anything that could happen! I should’ve never listened to you, I should’ve never trusted you! How dare you show your face here…” The words faltered, wilting before she could spit them out and turning to acid in her mouth.

Cullen’s face was a grimace of pain and confusion, his eyes too wide, too honest. He wasn’t like her. How had she ever believed that they would work, how had she ever believed that she was good enough for him? She stumbled backwards, throwing up her hands when he took a step towards her. “I’m sorry.” He said and his voice was too gentle. “Tell me what happened and we’ll…”

“No! I won’t listen to you again! They took Cassandra, okay? They took her away and they’ll do Maker knows what to her and it’s your fucking fault!” She was saying too much, the words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. She didn’t want to stop them, too much rage, too much despair burning in her chest.

“Just go. Go before I shoot you. Never show your face here again!”

Cullen hesitated, his eyes filled with a pain that tore at her heart, that had her wishing she could just reach out and pull him in. She wanted nothing more than to bury her face in his shoulder and cry, wanted to feel his strong arms wrap around her, hold her. But she couldn’t. Her mouth wouldn’t open to say the words she wanted to say, her body wouldn’t move towards him. Instead her hand came up to her neck, tearing at the silver necklace until it tore. “I don’t want it.” It was no more than a whisper and yet she could see the way the words cut into his heart. Her inner voice shouted at her to stop, shouted at her to clench her fist around the necklace but instead her fingers loosened their grip and she dropped it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I’m sorry.” He said again, his eyes leaving hers and focusing on the floor, on the necklace.

He knelt to pick up the discarded necklace, cradling it in his hands as though it was the most precious thing in the world. “Don’t worry.” Cullen said, his hand closing around the feather charm and there was nothing in his voice but cold. “I won’t bother you again.”

And with that he left. The door slammed shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised that I completely forgot to show you all how avisignis actually looks like. For anyone who's interested http://chekov-in-a-dress.tumblr.com/post/133679651412/i-just-realised-this-is-literally-the-happiest-we at least until I upload a prettier picture u.u


	22. Chapter Twenty aka The Bullet

 

Chapter Twenty

 

Avisignis stared at the closed door, her hand coming up to reach for Cullen as though it didn’t realise that he was gone. He was gone. It felt like something inside her broke. Her body finally obeyed her and she tore open the door, taking one step outside, the words falling from her lips a desperate outcry: “Cullen wait!” She wanted to apologise, wanted to tell him that she needed him, wanted to beg him to stay. He was halfway at his car already, shoulders hunched. At her words he turned around, his eyes on her face, searching for something as he waited for her to continue. The guarded expression on his face sent her slumping backwards, the doorframe the only thing that kept her upright. His amber eyes were filled with pain, so obvious that it left her at a loss. Apologise, she ordered herself, say something, anything. But her mouth was dry and her throat too tight, cutting off her air, cutting off any hope of calling out to him.

Even in this moment, when all she wanted was for him to stay, she couldn’t get a single word out. She just stood in the door, watching as something dark flashed across his face. “If you’re worried about me talking, don’t fret. I won’t say a single word about what you are.”

The words cut deeper even than his expression, leaving her gasping for air. He turned around and kept walking, his footsteps loud on the gravel of the driveway.

Avisignis could do nothing but watch as he climbed into the driver seat, could do nothing but watch as he drove away. The taillights of his car faded away, lost in the darkness and she sunk to the ground, her knees hitting the cold stone. “Cullen.” She whispered, her hands coming up to her face. She dragged her fingernails over her cheek, through the wet lines of falling tears. “Don’t go.”

But it was too late.

She didn’t remember how she got back inside. Maybe it took her minutes, maybe hours, to get back to her feet. To rest a hand on Trifles’ head and let the Mabari lead her back into the kitchen. The silence of the mansion pulled her in and locked the door, left her in that cage of her own making. The silence didn’t care about her tears, didn’t care about the agony that tore her heart to pieces. Cassandra. Cullen. Cassandra. The names rang in her head. “It’s your fault.” The Keeper told her over and over again and she let her, let the voice take over her mind until there was nothing else left of her. The kitchen was too friendly, too warm for her and she moved, ignoring the dog’s whining.

Her feet led her down the stairs, to that steel door that had stayed locked for so long, too long maybe. The cold welcomed her with open arms and she hesitated when she saw her own reflection in the glass of the gun case. “Take me.” She said, her voice echoing from the walls. “Take me back, I beg you! If this is what happens when you’re gone, then come back.”

The monster opened its eyes and stared at her through grey eyes. “I thought you didn’t need me anymore.” It growled, amusement and threat at the same time in its voice. “You wanted to get rid of me, wanted me gone.”

Avisignis shook her head. “I need you.”

The monster smiled sweet disgust with her own lips. Save Cassandra, she begged, save my child because I am too weak to do it on my own. Without the monster she was weak, breakable, and unable to do what needed to be done. If not for herself she would do this for the child she’d had no right to drag into this. If not for herself, she would fight for Cassandra.

One last time she promised herself, as she closed her eyes and embraced the cold.

 

She didn’t flinch when the phone rang. Her hands weren’t shaking as she reached for it, as she saw the unknown number and accepted the call. She knew what was awaiting her, knew the cruel voice that searched its way into her ear.

“What have you done with Cassandra?” Her voice was as icy as the Frostback Mountains. There was nothing of the fire left that had been given her when she was born, the fire that had not saved her from being abandoned and tossed aside. The fire had not protected her when she’d lain dying in the dirt of Kirkwall.

Corypheus answered her with the same arrogance he’d always carried. “She’s alive. For now. I didn’t hurt her very much. She’s just very scared and has been screaming for her _Mummy_ for the last hours. I was wondering when she’d stop, she has an amazing amount of breath in those little lungs of hers. Maybe I should keep her, she’d make for a good soldier when she’s a bit older…”

Avisignis didn’t blink, the monster easily fought off the panic that tried to spread itself in her veins. “If you hurt her, I will tear you apart.”

He laughed. “If you want her, come get her. I’m honestly surprised that you’re not here already. I thought you’d be more eager to have her back. Or do you not care for her at all.” His next words were muffled, like he was talking to someone else. “Do you hear that? Your mummy doesn’t care enough to come save you.”

A voice answered him, achingly familiar and filled with so much spite and blind trust. A trust that would’ve been better invested in anyone but her. “She’ll come. Mummy will come for me. She’d never abandon me.”

Avisignis lips curled into a smile. Of course she would come, even a monster cared for its own and what did they say about standing between a dragon and their young? Nothing probably because no one survived standing between a dragon and their young. Corypheus snorted. “You see, she still believes in you. Let’s see if she still believes when I kill you right in front of her little eyes.”

Cassandra’s scream pierced her ears, even over the phone the anguish and fear was obvious in her light voice. Wait for me, Avisignis promised her quietly, I will see his dead body to my feet before I let him hurt you. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” Was all she said before she hung up. In the silence, she found herself looking down at Trifles. “What do you say, we go and get our baby back?” The Mabari barked once, his tail wagging in excitement as though he wanted to say that he couldn’t wait. She changed, marvelling at the feeling of the armoured fabric against her skin. Next were the guns, the Berettas strapped to her sides and the daggers on her back. Their weight was achingly familiar, comforting in a way that nothing else was. The knife in her boot, the other at her thigh, this time not hidden by her trousers. The rifle was the only thing she left behind, as she was certain that she wouldn’t need it. This was no long range mission, this time it would be face to face. If she survived long enough to get to Corypheus, she’d kill him with her own hands, tear out his throat with her teeth if she had to.

One last time, she thought as the phone vibrated with the text. The coordinates immediately translating to street and number in her mind. It was a trap, of course it was. There was nothing else it could be, Corypheus would not just welcome her with open arms and give her back her daughter because she asked nicely. It was a trap she’d step in willingly because she knew how to deal with traps. She’d laid them herself all too often and she wondered if Corypheus had forgotten about that. If he too had disillusioned himself, thinking that she had forgotten about her training, about everything she’d learnt at the Lavellan clan. It was the first rule in the business, the first thing she’d had drilled into her mind when her fingers first curled around the handle of a gun. A Lavellan was always the hunter. Never the pray.

One last time, as she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, not locking it because there was no one who could stumble upon it now.

Her feet carried her up to the front door and outside into the cold air. She didn’t even need the coat, she’d donned for warmth, the ice cold air that crawled over her skin was nothing compared to the frozen wasteland in her head. She took Hawke’s car, wondering what her friend would say if she’d bring it back riddled with bullet holes. If she’d be able to bring it back at all.

Hawke would take care of the children if she’d die. Gordon would be there too, the two of them were both, in their own ways the deadliest of creatures. Avisignis trusted them with her life and more importantly, with the lives of her children. They’d take care of everything.

 

_“What should I do with Skyhold?” Hawke had once asked her, the wine heavy on her tongue as they had never been able to have that conversation in a sober state with Hawke refusing to talk about her death._

_Avisignis had only shrugged. “If you don’t want it, burn it down.”_

 

She wondered how the mansion would look engulfed in flames, how the looming towers would burst under the pressure. The night sky would be illuminated, carrying the news far over the Dales. The tall trees would burn well, like torches in the darkness, sending a message that was too clear to misunderstand. Her hands curled around the steering wheel like they had earlier that day, when things had still been different. This time, she didn’t pause to enjoy the purring of the engine. Her eyes saw well enough in the darkness when she drove without the lights on. Corypheus would know she was on the move, he’d be expecting her but she still wanted to keep at least some of the element of surprise for herself. Surely he had eyes on the mansion but there was no other car following her. The road was deserted, the sports car the only vehicle shooting along the white lines. She wondered if Hawke had bought the car for the sole reason that it was fast. It wasn’t fast enough to outrun her fate but maybe it would be fast enough to outrun the wrath of a city burning.

Avisignis had hoped to never return to Halamshiral in her life, not after what had happened the last time and yet it felt strangely poetic to drive through those streets again. Irony of fate, or maybe that was exactly what Corypheus was aiming at, he’d always been obsessed with melodramatic encounters. She remembered the day their paths had first crossed. He’d been nothing but a successful conman back then, no grudge against her or her clan as he’d never gotten into the way of their work. He’d seen the self-confident smile on his face and her still young mind had thought that if there were people in this world who were truly evil, he was one of them. Corypheus wanted power, he didn’t care about how many backs he had to stab, he wanted the world on its knees in front of him. They’d met again and that time he’d been burning. The hit had not been aimed at him but he’d been in the wrong place at the same time. Collateral damage wasn’t something the Lavellans were known for but they didn’t shy away from it either. With the bombs in place and the right people inside the building, she hadn’t hesitated to hit the switch. She hadn’t thought him able to survive but he had, he had crawled away from the flames and he’d seen her, standing in front of the fire like a goddess of death.

She had been the one to give him the scars that ruined his once handsome face and he’d hated her for it. He’d hated her for taking away his chance for more power, more money. She’d taken everything away from his slimy hands and ever since then, he’d been after her. With her still part of the clan he’d never had the opportunity to get to her until the end. She’d always asked herself whether the others had betrayed her. Someone had to have talked, had to have taken money and in turn given her up. Maybe it had been the Keeper, maybe it had been one of her sisters. The hit had supposedly been an easy one, in and out in a few minutes and one more death attributed to her name. Instead she’d found herself in a room full of armed guards and a smirking Corypheus right in front of her. “I’ll forgive you if you kiss my feet.” He’d said, his smeary hands reaching for her body. “If you’ll serve me, I won’t kill you.”

But a Lavellan didn’t give up. They didn’t bow their head to anyone but the Keeper and she’d turned around and run. If there was one thing she’d always been good at it, it was getting out of places. She’d spat in his face again and he’d shot her for it. The bullet had torn her shoulder apart before she’d made it to safety. With nowhere else to go, she’d found herself in a dirty alley, staring death in the face and begging to the gods for her life. But she hadn’t died. And now she would end what she should’ve ended so long ago. She would kill the creature that had crawled from the fire that should’ve been its grave.

She stopped the car a few streets away and hid her mobile under the seat. If she didn’t make it out alive, they’d find the car at least. Maybe Cassandra would be able to call help. But for that she had to get to her first. Trifles followed her without a sound, his paws as soundless as her feet on the snow of the pavement. She ducked into the shadows, circled the building twice before she approached the front door. The automatic doors swished open, inviting her in. She hesitated, turning her head to both sides as the feeling that she was being watched crawled into her stomach.

Avisignis encountered the first guard in the lobby, the man moved fast but not fast enough and she buried the bullet in his head before he had brought his arm up to shoot. The blood rushed in her ears, the adrenaline causing her to sprint up the stairs, faster, faster because she knew she had to get to the top. Cassandra was there, she reminded herself over and over again.

The second guard tried to surprise her on the third floor. The shot ricocheted off the wall next to her waist and she spun, using the railing of the stairs to push herself forward and into his reach. Her knee hit him in the stomach and she brought the butt of her gun up to his temple to knock him out clean. He fell face first down the stairs and she heard the cracking of his bones as he hit the ground below. She didn’t linger to watch the broken body, instead climbing higher and higher. Two more guards, two more bullets. Trifle leapt ahead and through the doors of the sixth floor and it was probably the only thing that Corypheus hadn’t expected. The hallway was filled with screaming following the Mabari’s lunge, his flews dripping with blood and his green eyes clouded with pure rage. She brushed her hand along his head, chasing away the bloodlust she could feel in his and her veins alike. They had to stay level headed. She lost one of the guns on the seventh floor, defending herself with hands and feet against an attacker who burst through the doors in front of her and tackled her before she could react. She’d broken his neck but the Beretta had tumbled down the stairs behind her. There was no time to get it, not when Corypheus knew she was here. With every second that passed, he could do something to Cassandra, if he hadn’t already.

She pushed the thought aside. He wanted the satisfaction of cornering her, he wanted to look her in the face and hurt her, be it her own body or that of someone she cared more deeply for. It was the only hope she kept for herself, that he wouldn’t harm the girl before she got to face him. Out of nowhere Cullen’s face appeared in her mind, the amber eyes filled with a pain she couldn’t describe and she faltered. Her steps slowing, she came to a halt right next to one of the large windows that made up the entire eastern front of the building. The monster snarled and she pushed the image away instantly.

Too late.

She realised her own mistake too late. The bullet shattered the window, raining shards of glass on her and pierced her arm, tearing through her flesh right above her elbow. Her mouth opened in a scream, the gun falling from her hand, as she staggered backwards, grasping her arm with the other hand. Red hot pain shot through her body, left her boiling and screaming, as the blood seeped through the clothes, flowing out of her like it wanted to be everywhere but her body. She looked down and saw the white of the shattered bone, exposed muscle and sinews, twitching desperately. She couldn’t move her arm, couldn’t feel her fingers as she clenched the other hand to a fist. She stood unmoving, knowing that if the sniper was any good she was too late already.

The second shot grazed her temple, the pain nothing compared to that washing through her in waves already. Even through the red haze, she realised that the shot should’ve killed her. No sniper was bad enough to miss that one, not after they took out her left arm like that. Her eyes searched the hole where the window had been, found the silhouette of a person on the roof of the next building. Gaze flickering to the bullet in the wall, the recognition hit her. She knew these bullets, she knew the precision with which they’d been fired. Hell, she even knew the rifle they’d been fired with. Without looking away from the silhouette, she raised her right arm, thumb pointing to the ground, middle and index finger to the sky. For a second she found herself hoping, praying that her hunch was right.

The figure stood up, abandoning their sniper post. Invisible to human eyes in the darkness, they raised one arm. Avisignis couldn’t see their hand, even her eyes unable to see that well over the distance but she knew that it was the very same gesture. “Thank you, sister.” She mumbled, acknowledging this last goodbye her clan had sent her, before she pushed herself away from the wall. Trifles was pacing, his paws bloody from the shards on the floor but he hadn’t bolted. With her right arm, she shrugged off the coat, clenching her teeth as it sent another wave of pain crashing into her. Drawing her dagger, she sliced the fabric apart and then wrapped it around her left arm until it was tied close to her body. Unconsciousness lingered at the edges of her mind, threatening to take her with the pain wrecking her body, but the monster fought with teeth and claws against the weakness. She pushed the dagger back into its scabbard and picked up the gun with her right hand. As long as she was holding onto it, she wouldn’t lose to the darkness.

She staggered on, followed Trifle as he led her down the hallway and to the last door at the end of the corridor. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, almost bursting through her ribs, as she kicked the door open.

 

The first thing she saw was Cassandra’s lifeless body on the floor. Curled up and white as a sheet, she looked even smaller, more fragile than she was. There was no blush on her cheeks, her short hair falling into her face.

Dead.

The thought brought her feet to a halt, rooted her to the floor as she cried out in sheer agony.

Dead.

She felt herself falling, falling with both her feet still on the ground. Her head was spinning, her mind in shambles, as she could do nothing but stare.

Cassandra’s chest moved, ever so slightly.

Not dead.

“I told you I didn’t hurt her very much.” The smooth voice had her whirl around, gun in her outstretched hand, unwavering. Trifles growled next to her, the sound low and yet strong enough to shake her out of her trance. Her eyes narrowing, Avisignis stared into the face that had been the face of his nightmares for so long. The monster she’d helped create.

Corypheus smiled, his disfigured lips pulling up and revealing his yellow teeth. He was unarmed and yet unafraid, moving as though he knew that she wouldn’t harm him. Or maybe he knew that he would die, maybe he had called her here just for that, to have her kill him. The thought confused her, everything about this man confused her because it didn’t fit into the way the world worked. Not for her. There was no good or evil in her world, only death and life. The mark would die, she would live. There were orders she had to follow and she followed them, without question, without hesitation. A person like him didn’t work in this world. He was greedy and he wanted power. He had power enough and he could’ve easily gained more without even concerning himself with her. But he wanted revenge as well. Revenge for his face and for everything else she had taken from him. But why had he not killed her yet? Why had he not begun to cut Cassandra to pieces the second she’d entered the room? What did he have to gain from staring her in the face?

Her eyes flickered to the windows. “Your sniper is gone. He won’t come to your aid.” Avisignis voice was ice. The monster in her chest ordered her to shoot, to end this now but something had her hesitate, something made her finger hover over the trigger.

Corypheus tilted his head. “I feared as much. You can’t trust these Lavellans. They’re all either corrupt or stupidly loyal. I’m not sure what’s worse, really.”

The smile was still there on his lips. “Did you know that the Keeper sold you out that night seven years ago? I offered her a nice sum of money and she practically fell to her knees, telling me everything I wanted to know.”

Avisignis snarled, her teeth bared not unlike the Mabari who was still next to her. Trifles was tense, every muscle strained as he waited for her command to attack. One word of her would’ve been enough to send him through the room and have him tear Corypheus throat out. Instead, she nodded her head towards Cassandra. “Make sure, she’s alright.” The dog growled once more, obviously unhappy with her order but he followed it nevertheless, slinking to the lifeless girl and licking her face, barking once as though to indicate that she was as alright as she could be in the situation. Avisignis felt relief washing through her but her eyes didn’t leave Corypheus.

“Why?” She asked, though she knew it was a mistake to let him talk instead of just killing him. “Why go through all of this and in the end you don’t even get to see me dead?”

Corypheus closed his eyes for a moment and his lips pulled into a grin that was nothing but brutal.

“Because I’ve already killed you.”


	23. Chapter Twenty-One aka Blood

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

The monster roared inside her head but she couldn’t move. Her body frozen, she knew that even though she was the one with the gun aimed at his head, she had lost. Corypheus knew it too. He took a step closer and another one until he could touch her face with his hand. His fingers brushed over her jaw, his touch almost too tender, too gentle. Avisignis felt her body tremble under the caress. Her blood was still soaking through the cloth she had wrapped around it and she felt dizzy, the darkness inching closer with every minute that passed.

“You may not know it but you’re mine. More than you will be his, more than you will be theirs-“ He jerked his head towards Cassandra. “More than you ever were the Keeper’s.” His hand dipped lower, trailing over her throat in an almost loving gesture. “You will kill me but I will not die. You will never forgive me, you will never forget what I have done to you. You’ll never forget what you’ve done to me. I made you into what you are.” His hand curled around her throat, squeezing just the slightest bit. “I was always looking for a way to become immortal, like the ancient elves were. To be a god even. And I found one, through you. As long as you live you will carry me with you. You will never be free. The monster inside your head will forever speak with my voice.” Avisignis didn’t blink, didn’t move away. She just wondered how he knew even this about her. Had he seen the monster through her eyes? Or was he just assuming it was there because he knew that she alone was too weak to do the things she did?

“You’re a monster. You’re the archdemon I attempted to rise from the depth of the fade. Even when I die I will still hold a power over you that no one else could wield.”

His fingers trailed down her arm, curled around the hand she still had on the gun. For a moment she thought, he’d turn it on her, press it against her own hand and she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop him. Instead he pressed it to his own temple, his face only inches away from her own. “Do it.”

It wasn’t her wish, it was an order. An order she had to follow. There was no way she could disobey, not when the monster inside of her was bowing its head to Corypheus will, not when the shackles the Keeper had welded around her wrists were too tight to escape.

Avisignis pulled the trigger.

Time didn’t stand still. It didn’t rush past her either. She saw how his eyes widened for a split second, his blood and brain matter painting the side of the room, a few stray drops hitting her face and painting red lines over her face. The gun fell from her limp hand. His body hit the ground, lifeless. Her own legs gave out under her and she stumbled, knees only inches from his head when she too went down. She tried to catch herself, good hand scraping over the cold concrete floor. Tremors shot through her body, set her left arm on fire until she was screaming, screaming her lungs out. The monster roared inside her head, curling its wings around her in a protective embrace of cold-numb-empty. Trifles was at her side, his nose wet in her face, a desperate whine tearing from his throat, as he tried to push her to move.

Trying her best to find the strength to get up, she reached up, burying her hand in the fur at the back of his neck. He understood, bracing his legs on the floor, as she pulled herself up. He supported her without a noise of complaint, green eyes filled with concern that was hers alone. The red haze closed in on her mind, as she stumbled over the concrete floor to where Cassandra was lying. She reached for the girl, half heaving her onto her back. The weight was almost enough to make her crumble but she bit her tongue until her mouth was filled with blood and staggered towards the door. Trifles ran ahead, his barks loud to announce that the corridor was clear. She followed, slowly, one step after the other. She crashed into the lift, praying to whatever gods were listening that it would work, as she hit the button for the ground floor. It did, with a loud creaking sound of steel and wires, it moved and she closed her eyes, bending forward until she could spit out the blood and bile in her mouth.

Avisignis wanted to tell Trifles how well he had done, wanted to comfort one of them at least, but her tongue didn’t work. She had to bury her teeth in it once again, as they reached the entrance hall, slowly making their way over the marble floor. The cold air felt like a blessing, numbing the pain of her wounds the slightest bit. Oh, how wonderful would it be to just close her eyes now. Just rest her head for a little moment, lay down in that soft snow that would embrace her like a long lost lover. Trifles pushed her, his snout in her knee, towards the car. Just a moment, she thought but the Mabari barked loudly enough to shake her up once more, forced her to move.

Gathering her last bit of strength, she pushed herself beyond the limit, walked until her legs were giving out underneath her and then some more. The sight of the car made her sigh with relief and as gently as she could, she laid Cassandra down across the backseat. Then she collapsed into the front seat. There was no way, she would get back to Skyhold in her state, not with her bleeding out on the seat and her fingers too weak to even lift the car keys. She would just rest for a little moment, then she’d be strong enough to drive, she thought and it was nothing but another lie that fell too easily off her tongue, when she told Trifles that it would be alright. She let her head fall back against the seat, drawing her knees up. Her eyes drifted shut and the darkness overwhelmed her.

The monster inside her head raised its head and smiled at her.

“You’re mine.”

Corypheus voice filled her head and she fell.

 

She regained consciousness only to find herself face to face with a crying Cassandra. “Mummy! Mummy! Mummy please wake up!” The shrill voice cried, hands reaching for her body only to come away stained with blood and the crying grew louder.

 _It’s okay._ She wanted to say. _Don’t cry Cassandra, you’re going to be fine._ But there was no air in her lungs and no words on her tongue that she could speak. Cassandra pushed her shoulder again, the pain a haze that flooded through her and the darkness surrounded her again. No, she had to stay strong, had to stay conscious for her little girl. She bit through her tongue, teeth clicking together sharply and the blood filled her mouth, had her cough and spit and she saw the dread on the girl’s face, as it flowed out of her mouth, dripping from her chin. She brought her hand up, brushing it against Cassandra’s cheek in a desperate attempt to comfort her. _Don’t cry._ She thought again, as her fingers left red streaks on the girl’s skin. Her hand fell, her arm not strong enough to hold its weight any longer.

“The phone…” The words were muffled by the blood, a breathless gurgling and her eyes flickered to the place under the seat, where she’d hidden it. Cassandra understood, her little hands trembling, as she reached under the seat and Avisignis found her own lips pull into a weak smile. _Good girl. You make your mummy proud._ Only dimly she saw Cassandra dial the first number that showed up on the screen. From far away she could hear the girl’s panic struck voice scream into the phone.

“Mummy’s hurt! You have to come please Mummy’s hurt! She’s bleeding, she’s dying, please, please you have to come! You can’t let her die, please daddy!”

Daddy, she wondered through the haze around her brain, there’s no daddy. _Daddy has left because Mummy told him to and he’ll never come back. It’s better for him this way, safer. It’s safer for all of you if I’m gone._

She didn’t hear the rest of Cassandra’s pleading, didn’t hear the voice on the other end of the line that promised, no less panicked than hers, to be there immediately. She felt Trifles nuzzle her right hand, as though he was trying to keep the darkness at bay that swept her away.

 

I’m sorry, she thought, I really did try to keep my promise.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Two aka Too Late

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Cullen had never driven as fast as he did that night. He’d never felt the same ice cold dread run through his veins or the heart pounding in his chest like that either. The world was blurry at the edges, the tears that lingered at the corners of his eyes leaving him blind to anything but the road in front of him. _Mummy’s hurt!_ _She’s bleeding, she’s dying…_ Cassandra’s words echoed in his head, repeating themselves over and over again. No, he thought, this couldn’t be happening. None of this could be real. He regretted leaving her, letting her stand in that door all alone when it was so obvious that she couldn’t support her own weight. He regretted not asking what was going to happen, not insisting on staying. He’d been hurt, he’d felt a pain he’d never felt before in his chest when she’d told him to leave. He’d let his fear of being rejected get the better of him and he hadn’t seen how desperate she’d really been. What if she died? What if she died and he could’ve prevented it if he had just been a little less self-centred?

His grip around the steering wheel tightened as the desire to punch something swept through him. There was no time for that now, no time to be angry at himself for something he hadn’t done. There was a little girl waiting for him, a little girl who was crouched over the body of her mother, as she bled out in their car. Cullen had only gotten that much out of her: that they were in a car in a city and Avisignis was bleeding badly from her arm and her mouth. What had she done, he wondered, to what lengths had she gone to save her daughter, while he had been sitting in his apartment feeling miserable for himself? The thought was like acid in his brain, eating away at his sanity. Cassandra had given him a street name, nothing more but it had been enough to find out where they were.

He’d never liked the city, even less after Avisignis had admitted that she’d been the one who killed the people in the nightclub and set the fire that resulted in so many deaths. And yet he was here, speeding through the dark streets in the hope of finding the woman he loved before she slipped away. Cullen spotted the Mabari before he saw the car, not immediately recognising it, since it was one he’d never seen her drive. He could barely stop his car before hitting the dog that was standing in the middle of the road, barking loudly. The dog was desperate too, he thought. It was no wonder, Mabaris usually chose their owner for life and if he had imprinted on Avisignis, he’d rather die with her than live without her. Cullen felt a sudden kinship with the dog, wondering if he too would go insane if Avisignis was taken away from him. He was out at the sports car within seconds, pulling the door open and exhaling a sharp breath. What he saw turned his stomach, sent waves of dizziness through him and struck his chest more than any bullet could.

There was so much blood. It seemed as though every surface in the car was covered with it. It pooled around her feet, a crimson puddle that grew with every drop and spoke of how close she was to fading. “Daddy!” A hoarse voice cried and suddenly Cassandra was in his arms, her face buried in his chest, as she cried. She was shaking like a leaf. Cullen couldn’t blame her for it. Gently, he pried her off, told her with as much certainty as he could put in his words, that they would save Mummy. She nodded, tears rolling down her face, as she clutched her hands together in front of her body and began to rock back and forth on her feet. Trifles was at her side, nudging the little girl with his head. The dog knew that she was important to Avisignis, Cullen figured, that she was Avisignis family and had to be kept safe and sane. He left it to the dog to take care of the child and tried, as gently as possible to lift Avisignis out of her seat. Her head rolled against his arm and he hurried to drive away the thought that she was dead already.

She wasn’t. She was breathing, if only weakly. Her pulse was slow, unsteady under his fingers but she was alive. She was still alive. He told himself that over and over again, swallowing the tears that threatened to spill as he gathered her in his arms. She was so light, her skin slippery from the blood and her skin a greyish shade of white that reminded him too much of a corpse.

“Please.” He whispered into her hair, as he carried her over to his car. “Please hold on. I can’t lose you. Not you.”

But Avisignis didn’t hear his words, she didn’t open her eyes to look at him, she just hung lifelessly in his arms, her breathing getting shallower and shallower with every passing second. Gently he manoeuvred her into the passenger seat. He didn’t dare to wrap the seatbelt around her, not when he didn’t know where and how badly she was hurt. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, off the blood that stained her face, the pale lips opened ever so slightly to draw rattling breaths. He touched her hand once more and found that her skin was cold like the snow. Dying, she’s dying, he thought and his hands clenched into fists.

Even when he had both Cassandra and Trifles in the car, he couldn’t drive fast enough. The hospital was at the other end of town, every minute they took was a minute too long, every second could be the one when her heart decided to stop beating for good. The strain was too much, he could see it in her face, the way her brows relaxed, her jaw went slack. “No, no, no!” He breathed, reaching over to brush his fingers across her cheek. “You can’t give up now, please, please don’t give up. Don’t leave me!”

Cassandra whimpered on the backseat. Her crying drowned out even the sound of Cullen’s thoughts. His heart broke over and over again, every time he glanced over and saw the woman he had fallen in love with drift father away. She’d given so much, to her children, to Trifles, to him. Even when she’d spoken of herself as a monster, an abomination that wasn’t supposed to exist and had no right to live a life of happiness, she’d only just worried for everyone but herself. In her selflessness, she’d thrown her life away to save another, to protect the ones she held dear. He was ashamed for his own thoughts but in this moment Cullen wished that she’d just been a bit more selfish. If she’d been cruel and egoistic like so many of those other people, all of this would’ve never happened.

And even in this moment, he knew what she’d say. She’d call him a fool in her soft, gentle voice. Her long fingers running through his hair and her lips only inches away from his own. “I’d never have met the kids. I’d never have met you either.” And what good did that do her? He was the one who convinced her to stick it to Corypheus, the one who was responsible for all of this. If only he could turn back time to stop himself, to stop all of this from happening.

And yet, she’d been so happy. Too vividly he remembered Satinalia, the joy on her face and the warmth of her hands. She’d been so content, so beautiful surrounded by her family, her melodic laughter filling Cullen’s heart and soul so completely. If he could give his life to save her, to give her that happiness back, he would do it in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. All he could do was watch her bleed out because she gave everything she had for this family of hers.

They stopped in the driveway of the ER. The guard at the gate waved them through as soon as she saw the mess of blood on the passenger seat, her hand already at the phone to inform the doctors. Cullen stopped the car and moved to the other side to carry her out. He was pushed out of the way by the doctors, could only watch as they loaded her on one of the gurneys and wheeled her away. Even as they went, he could hear one of them shout: “Quick! She has no pulse! Get her into surgery, now!” Cullen stared at his hands, at the blood that wasn’t his and the tears he had swallowed down for so long, began trickling down his cheeks. He’d lost her. Her fate was out of his hands. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could do to save the one woman he loved more than anything else in this world. The one woman who was his entire world.

There was a tiny flicker of hope in his chest, glowing faintly in the dim light of dawn. He stomped it out, knowing that if he started hoping, it would only be worse in the end.

The world seemed to have slowed down around him, a strange nothingness surrounding him, as he slowly followed the doctors up to that door with the glowing light and the curtains across the windows. He stared at the grey of the curtain, wishing he could pull it away and reveal that it had all been but a dream. One of the nightmares that he would wake from with a dry throat and sweat sticking to his skin. He frowned when someone talked to him, at first not understanding what the nurse was trying to tell him.

“What?” He didn’t turn around, feeling as though if he stopped holding onto the curtain, the world would spin out of control.

“I said you can’t be here. There’s a waiting area right around the corner, ser. And about your dog…” Trifles growled, knowing that the nurse was talking about him. The woman backed off when the Mabari directed his glare at her and she raised her hands in a gesture of defeat. “I’m sorry, just- go to the waiting area, please. You’re in the way.” Cullen nodded, numbness spreading across his mind. He tore his gaze away from the curtain. Taking Cassandra’s hand in his, he followed the nurse, his feet slow. The Mabari whined, hesitating in front of the closed door as though he loathed the idea to leave as much as Cullen did. In the end he ducked his head and slunk away from the door. Cullen ignored the whispers or the pitying looks that were thrown in his direction. They had no idea, he thought, no idea how it felt to have everything that mattered torn away from them.

Cassandra tugged at his sleeve before they entered the waiting area. “We have to call Gordon. He’s with the others.” Of course he was, because unlike Cullen the man hadn’t abandoned Avisignis in her hour of need. He pushed the thought aside, knowing that it was useless to lose himself in his guilt. He had no right to feel sorry for himself, not when she was in that locked room fighting for her life.

Blackwall’s voice was gruff from the hours spent sleepless. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.” He promised. “Wouldn’t want to wake the kids. They deserve a bit of rest. I didn’t want to be the one to-“ He hesitated and Cullen was sure that he heard the resignation in his voice. He hadn’t expected her to come back, he suddenly realised. His fingers tightened around the phone in his hand, as he replied.

“I’ll hold the fort. I- I’ll tell you as soon as there’s news.”

Blackwall grunted in agreement before he hung up.

Cassandra fell asleep half an hour later, too exhausted from the crying and the strain of everything that had happened to keep her eyes open for much longer. Trifles paced, his paws soundless on the floor until the nurse threw him a disapproving look and he hid under one of the chairs instead, his head resting on his front legs and his eyes glued to the door. Cullen found himself unable to rest, his fingers aimlessly stroking through Cassandra’s short hair, as he forced himself not to think. But with the silence that hung over the waiting room, there was no escaping the scenarios his head played for him. What would he do if she died, how would he tell Blakwall, how would he tell the children that they’d lost their mother? Hawke, he had to tell Hawke too and he knew the woman would be devastated. They all would be.

Cullen had seen so much death, so many families torn apart by the war and yet he’d never felt such sadness. He’d never been part of something, had never been the one to _lose_. He’d watched people grieve but he’d never been able to imagine just how painful it was. Now it felt as though his heart had been torn out of his chest. There was a gaping hole, aching and widening with every hour that passed without news. And yet, he couldn’t keep that little flicker of hope from rising again and again. His head jerked up every time someone passed the door, the sound of footsteps tearing him from his thoughts, only to fade again and leave him once more floating.

It was well past six when the door finally opened, a tired looking doctor plucking her mask off her face, as he shot Cullen an exhausted smile that made his heart leap in his chest.

“She’s stable.” The words were almost drowned out by the static in his head. His sigh of relief startled Trifles, the Mabari jumping to his feet. “Her condition’s still critical but we think she’ll make it. Her arm was badly damaged, it’s not certain yet if we’ll have to amputate. She lost a lot of blood but the infection didn’t spread very far. It was good that you brought her in immediately. Only a few minutes later and…” She left the sentence there, the possibility hung in the room but Cullen couldn’t find the mind to think about it. She was stable, at least for now. She would make it, he was certain, the hope filling the void in his chest until he could barely breathe through the strain.

He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice once more. “Can I…”

The doctor shook her head. “Not until she’s out of the critical condition, I’m afraid. If you come back in a few hours, we might be able to let you in. Your daughter…”

Cullen didn’t find the strength to correct her mistake. “The kids will want to see her too. I- we’ll come back later.”

He woke Cassandra and the girl’s eyes lit up as soon as she heard the news. More tears rolled down her cheeks, tears of relief and fear. “She’ll be alright, won’t she?” She asked again and again. Cullen found himself telling her that everything would be alright, hoping desperately that it wouldn’t turn out to be a lie. They left the hospital but didn’t go back to the car. Neither of them thought about going home, leaving Avisignis all alone in that white building in the city that almost took her life. They sat down in the café across the street, both forcing themselves to drink something. The coffee tasted stale on his tongue, like it had gone bad years ago. He asked Cassandra if she wanted to eat something but she shook her head. He understood, the mere thought of food making his stomach revolt.

The waitress stared at them. Only when Trifles nosed at his hand, he realised that he hadn’t washed off her blood.

They lingered, passing the time with Cassandra sleeping on his lap once more and Trifles pacing across the parking lot. Cullen couldn’t tell who was more agitated, the Mabari or he himself. He thought about calling his work but then he noticed the date. It was First Day. The first day of the New Year. He’d barely realised it, had forgotten all about the plans he’d had when he’d visited Skyhold last night. They’d planned to celebrate together, the whole family gathered to greet the New Year with joy and laughter. Instead all the year had brought him was blood and death. He’d almost lost everything that he’d found in this one turbulent year. Some of it he’d truly lost, he thought as his fingers played with the necklace that was hidden in his coat pocket. Some of it he could still lose. When Cassandra woke up, he went to the bathroom to wash the blood off his hands. The stains on his coat wouldn’t go away but he didn’t care enough to try harder.

Cullen stared at the water that poured away into the drain, watched as the red faded away and was replaced by clear, cool liquid. He wished he could wash his soul like that, rinse out all the doubt and the pain. “She’ll make it.” He told his reflection in the mirror but the amber eyes that stared back at him didn’t share his optimism.

 

Blackwall arrived with the rest of the children a few hours later. Cullen had never seen them so quiet, their faces pale and eyes wide with fear. Sera crawled into his arm, hiding her little face in the crook of his neck. Even the infant was distraught, noticing that something wasn't right. “Mummy where?” She asked. And again: “Mummy where.” Cullen had no answer for her, couldn’t work around the lump in his throat to get out the words he had to. They all gathered in the waiting area once more. The nurse who checked on them was a different one, this one seemed more sympathetic, her sad eyes always lingering on the children.

“It’s horrible.” She mumbled when she passed Cullen. “So horrible with all of the little ones. I’m sorry.” Cullen only nodded, not knowing if there was an answer to her words. After what seemed like an eternity of quiet waiting, the kids still too shocked to really understand the situation, the nurse showed up again, announcing that they could see Avisignis for a few minutes. Suddenly they were all on their feet, scrambling towards the door as quickly as possible.

Cullen followed them but the nurse stopped him. “Your wife, she’s, well, she’s in a coma right now. The doctors are hoping that she’ll wake up soon but there’s no guarantee.” She lowered her voice, her expression one of the pity he despised so much. “She’s strong. She’s survived the surgery and everything but… don’t get your hopes up too high.” He winced, staring at her for a moment but there was no lie in her features.

They filed into the hospital room and Cullen almost regretted it as soon as he stepped through the door. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the uncertainty or the sight of her body, her skin as white as the sheets. She looked too broken, too fragile like that, her dark hair like a halo that framed her face. There were cuts, bruises staining her face and neck. Her left arm rested on top of the covers, wrapped in thick layers of bandages. He didn’t dare to think about what was underneath them, the glimpse he’d caught of exposed bone and torn muscles enough to fuel his imagination.

He was almost glad when Blackwall touched his arm. “Come with me for a moment.” The man ordered and Cullen followed him, glad to get away from that too white room and the broken shell of the woman he loved.

Blackwall pulled him into the next room, checking twice that the door was closed and there was no one around, before he turned. His face was filled with pain but his eyes were as sharp as his voice. “How much do you know?”

He was confused about the question for just the tiniest moment until he understood what the man meant. “I know about her past. That Corypheus blackmailed her and that he took Cassandra. I’m guessing that she took off on her own to confront him and get the girl back but apart from that…”

Blackwall nodded. For a moment Cullen thought he’d tell him that he knew _too much_. The man sighed. “You know about as much as I do. I’m pretty sure Corypheus is dead, otherwise she wouldn’t be here…” _Otherwise she wouldn’t be alive._ He didn’t have to say it, the truth too obvious. They both knew it. The thought was at the same time comforting and unsettling. He’d seen what the killing did to Avisignis, the way she buckled and broke when she thought about the blood on her hands. He wondered how much of her was still there, when she woke up, _if_ she woke up. How much of the woman he knew would be left? How much had she lost in that building in Halamshiral? How much had Corypheus taken from her?

The older man watched him for a moment and his face was hard, when he spoke once more. “You know that you can’t tell the guard anything. It doesn’t matter who shows up here, you can’t tell them what you know or they’ll never let her walk out of here alive.” His dark brows furrowed, making him look like the fierce warrior, he’d always been in Cullen’s eyes. He didn’t know about the man’s past, only knew that he’d known Avisignis before she left Kirkwall and he’d never dared to ask. Avisignis had said that it wasn’t her story to tell and he doubted that Blackwall would be frank with him. “They’ll find the bodies eventually. If they ask you tell them that she was in Halamshiral to fetch Cassandra from a friend or something. A simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Cullen muttered his agreement. Of course he knew that he couldn’t talk. “What about Cassandra.”

Blackwall shrugged. “I’m taking the kids home. I’ll talk to her when we get back to Skyhold. She’s old enough to get why she has to lie. She’d to anything to help her Mummy, all of them would. Never seen anything like it, you’d think kids like arguing with their parents but they just love her.” He chuckled, a weak attempt. Cullen wondered if Blackwall resented him. The man loved Avisignis, it was written all over his face, mirrored in the way he handled the kids and everything that had to do with her. And yet she hadn’t chosen him.

The older man shook his head, as though he’d read Cullen’s thoughts, he said: “It wouldn’t have worked with us. Too much history, too much blood spilled. We’re both too broken for this. I wouldn’t be able to give her what she needs.”

The words hung heavily in the air, when they went back to the other room. The kids were still crowded around the bed, Solas holding a screaming Sera in his arms. The rest of them was quiet, Cole stroking his thin fingers over her hair. His eyes were distant, the ugly hat he never went anywhere without forgotten somewhere in the rush of getting there on time.

They left without complaint when the nurse kicked them out, Blackwall herding them all back to the car. Cullen and Trifles were the only ones to remain, the Mabari refusing to leave his owner’s side again after he’d been forced to be away from her once. Cullen couldn’t blame him. He sunk onto the chair next to her bed, reaching out for her pale hand and carefully cradling it in his own.

The beeping and humming of the medical instruments was the only sound that cut through the silence. With the air pumped into her lungs, her chest heaved steadily, her pulse a soft, irregular drumming under the fingers that brushed over her wrist.

Cullen rested his hand on the side of the bed, not minding his complaining back. His eyes never left her face as he settled.

He’d wait, he promised her quietly, and if he had to wait forever.

 


	25. Chapter Twenty-Three aka White

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

She swam through a haze of voices and faces, some acutely familiar, some from a past she’d left behind long ago. There were no nightmares, no monsters hunting her in this place, only the strange warmth that had wrapped itself around her like a thick blanket. She couldn’t say for how long she drifted like this, unaware of whether she was dead or alive. It was nothing like the place she’d been in when she died in that alley in Kirkwall, nothing like the complete blackness of the void. Maybe this was truly the fade, maybe the gods had finally called her to their realm. Yet she’d always thought there’d be more… light or pompous buildings or whatever it was the priestesses always preached. The voices spoke but she couldn’t make out any words, couldn’t tell whether they were accusing her or reassuring her. Soft hands were on her hair, on her face, caressing and yet there was none of the cold hatred in these touches that Corypheus had brought into her world.

The monster had abandoned her, left her chest strangely empty. She didn’t miss it, not the claws that dug into her heart or the wings that had been folded around her shoulders. She felt the place where it had lain, the scorched earth its fiery breath had left behind, knowing that it would forever remain lifeless. She felt the loss like a lingering ache and yet there was no pain. She was missing something, something she would never find again. A part of her had stayed in that building, had been torn out by the bullets and the strangely gentle fingers that had wrapped around her throat. It was nothing she couldn’t be without, nothing she needed in this vast world of her own making.

It could’ve been hours later or years when the light appeared. Dimly at first like it was filtering through the blinds in front of the windows of the master bedroom. She reached out towards the sky and found herself pulled towards the window. The morning ha come, welcomed her with pearls of sunlight that rolled over her skin. How strange, she thought, that she was here again. She glanced back at the bed, almost expecting to find Cullen there, curled up under the blankets, a shock of blond hair sticking out from underneath. She remembered too late that she’d sent him away, that he wouldn’t be sleeping in her bed now. Her mouth opened to call for Trifles but the words were swept away by the wind that played with her hair.

She closed her eyes and breathed and the air she inhaled smelled like disinfectants and loss.

She opened her eyes again and found herself staring at a white ceiling.

The rush of adrenaline that she expected from waking up in a strange place, didn’t come. Instead there was just a calmness that filled her mind, when she moved her head, glancing right and left to figure out where she was. A hospital, she figured from the smell and the sounds. She tried to move her limbs, her feet heavy like she hadn’t used them in too long. Next were her hands. The right one obeyed her commands without hesitation, coming up as a shadow against the bright artificial light. The left one wouldn’t move at all. A flash of panic rushed through her and she glanced down at her hand, seeing nothing but bandages and tubes. She flinched.

It took her minutes until she’d managed to heaver herself up. Her eyes slowly adjusting to the bright light, she eyed her surroundings more thoroughly. It had to be Halamshiral, couldn’t be any other place. A head appeared next to her bed and she found herself sigh in relief, when Trifles yip excitedly. The Mabari almost jumped the bed, only her right hand stopped him, brushing against the soft fur on his nose. “It’s good to see you.” She mumbled, her voice rough as though she hadn’t used her vocal chords in years. Her head was fuzzy, vision blurry from the painkillers probably. She glanced at the door, wondering for a second why she felt as though something was wrong with the room. Something was missing, her head supplied but she couldn’t tell what it might be. “What about the kids?” She asked the dog and Trifles cocked his head, mustering her with these intelligent eyes of his, before he let out a bark. It was enough to reassure her, the dog would’ve never been so calm if something had happened. She smiled, the calm warmth once more sweeping through her body, as she leant back against the headboard. Cassandra was safe. They were all safe.

She raised her right hand to her face. There was no blood on her fingers. There were no stains on her pale skin. She searched her insides for the monster and found only the patch of burnt earth that she’d felt before. It was gone, truly gone. For the first time in her life she found no trace of it, no matter how far she ventured into the darkness of her mind.

Avisignis was still exhausted, her eyes drifting shut only to be forced open again as she didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. She wanted to see her children, wanted to tell them how much she loved them and how sorry she was for everything. She wanted to see Cullen- she didn’t pursue the thought further as the door opened and an unknown person stepped into the room. The nurse’s eyes widened and then she turned around and hurried away once more. Strange. She returned minutes late with a doctor in tow, the second woman looking older and more experienced, her blond hair already greying at the temples. And yet the smile on her lips was sincere, kind. She reminded Avisignis of Anders for a moment, both healers in their own right.

“Miss Pentaghast.” The doctor said. She had obviously been in this room before as Trifles only glanced at her, before going back to resting his head on the bed next to her hand. The woman didn’t seem afraid of the Mabari either. Maybe Trifles realised that she was helping his owner. “It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

Avisignis considered her answer for a moment. “Like I smoked a whole bag of deep mushrooms.” And after another second of consideration, she added: “I can’t move my left arm.”

The doctor frowned for a moment, her expression serious, as she stepped closer to the bed to lift up her arm for her. It felt strange seeing but not _feeling_ her arm being moved. “I had feared as much.” The doctor admitted. “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t know if it will get better. There’s a good chance you’ll recover fully, the nervous pathways were damaged but we did our best to patch them up. It’ll take time though. If there’s no change within the next months, we’ll have to amputate.”

The Dalish wondered why she wasn’t scared. It was the drugs probably, she thought as she only nodded. “What about my kids? Are they alright?” She asked, simply because she needed to hear it from someone who could speak the words.

A smile graced the woman’s lips once more. “They’re fine. They stopped by to visit just yesterday.” Avisignis breathed in relief, closing her eyes for a moment to let the news sink in. “Your husband was here too…”

At that her eyes flew open once more. “Husband?”

“Ser Rutherford? He was here all the time, refused to leave your bed for more than a few minutes at a time just like the dog did. He waited for days, we practically had to kick him out earlier because we needed to move you to another room. He should be back in a few hours though.”

Her head was spinning. Cullen had been here? He’d been here the whole time and she hadn’t known. She’d thought, she’d never see him again, not after what she’d said and done to him. Her fingers brushed over her neck, the place where the feather used to rest against her skin and she felt the loss more strongly than the one of her left arm. “Why?” She rasped, though she knew the doctor had no answer for her.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Why? Well I would like to presume because he cares about you. I’m not one to make assumptions but it sure looked like that. He slept on a chair for days for you. Haven’t met many men who’d do that.”

Avisignis didn’t say anything in return, unable to find any words that suited the situation, instead she only nodded, her head coming to rest against the pillow again.

The doctor noticed her fatigue, rushing over to help her lie down once more. “You should get some rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

You have no idea, she thought but her eyes were already falling shut. She drifted back to sleep before she could even ask the doctor what would happen to her now.

 

The next time she woke, Cullen was there. His hand held hers, fingers protectively curled around her like he was scared she’d be taken away any moment. He’d fallen asleep, his head cushioned on the arms he’d rested on the bed. The urge to reach out and comb his fingers through his blond hair shot through her but with her only functioning hand occupied, she could do nothing but watch. He looked tired, dark shadows under his eyes and yet he seemed relaxed in his sleep. His steady breath fanned over the skin of her arm, indicating that he was truly, fast asleep and every now and then he shifted, as though he was subconsciously trying to find a less tormenting position.

He was beautiful, she thought, his face smooth. Avisignis hadn’t realised how much she’d missed these features, the scar above his upper lip, the strangely long lashes. She wished she could see his eyes, the amber depths that always seemed to pull her in, enchant her like the sound of his voice did but she didn’t want to wake him. She felt strong, her body for the first time in ages rested. Maybe it was still the meds though. She stretched as best as she could before carefully freeing her hand from Cullen’s. The loss of warmth was enough to make her hesitate for a second.

Avisignis didn’t know what to do. She knew that there was something else, something prodding at the back of her mind but she couldn’t tell what it was. She had to do something, she couldn’t just stay here forever and wait for the world to grow old around her. Her movements startled Trifles out of his light sleep and he raised his head, green eyes bright and full of a happiness that she couldn’t understand. She reached down and the Mabari licked her hand before barking with joy. A smile curled around her lips. “Don’t worry, we’ll go home.” Because that was where she was headed. Home. Skyhold. Her family. It wasn’t much of a conscious decision, no choice she had to make because it was clear to her that the only place she’d truly recover was the mansion. She needed to see her family, needed to make sure they were truly safe. There were no more needles in her arms, thankfully, but when she moved her legs over the edge of the bed a wave of dizziness hit her. Trifles was there, his big had against her side, offering her support.

With one hand holding onto the Mabari’s neck, she found her balance, carefully using first her left, then her right foot. Almost like she was a child herself, she learnt how to walk, back and forth through the room until she was certain she wouldn’t topple over. Someone had brought her clothes, they were waiting for her in a pile on the second chair and she slipped them on. It was a lot more complicating with one hand. She managed the trousers and the socks, even the bra but struggled with the shirt. The arm wouldn’t fit through the hole and she couldn’t move it. When she tried, a wave of pain rushed through her, forcing the air out of her lungs and making her dizzy. In the end she settled for just one arm through the sleeve of her shirt. With this accomplished she hesitated once again, her eyes coming to rest on Cullen’s form.

She wanted to wake him, wanted to apologise for her words and thank him for being there. She wanted to wrap her arm around him and feel his warmth against her body, wanted to ask him for forgiveness. And yet she found herself wondering if it was the right thing to do. A voice whispered into his ear that sounded too much like Corypheus. _He won’t want you. Do you truly think he would love a monster?_ He did, she shot back, he loved her. But the voice kept on talking, kept on gnawing on her determination until it crumbled and broke away. _But even if he does, do you truly think he should? Do you think you can give him everything he wants? How can you give him the happiness he deserves, the life he deserves when you are nothing but a murderer? He’d always be in danger. You’ve seen what happens when you let people into your life, you’ve seen what happens when your past comes back to haunt you. What will happen next time? What will you do when they take him next? If they kill him?_

Cullen would be safer without her. He’d be safe only if he was as far away from her as possible. Her fingers trembled, gripping the edge of the hospital bed as tears welled up in her eyes. He would never be safe with her. She wouldn’t be able to give him what he deserved, the happiness he should have in his life. _He deserves better than you._ Corypheus said and she could do nothing but agree.

Her footsteps were soundless, as she crossed the room, her fingers playing with the tips of his locks for just a second, before she turned away. _I love you._ She thought, the words tingling on the tip of her tongue. _Thank you for everything._

She was already turning towards the door, when she spotted something hanging out of the pocket of his coat. It was a plain, silver necklace. Before she knew it, she reached out, carefully pulled it out. The feather charm fell into the palm of her hand like it belonged there. She considered putting it back into his pocket but her fingers had already closed around it. A memento, she thought, a sad smile on her lips, as she pressed her hand to her chest. A memento of happier times.

Her feet carried her out of the hospital room then. She only staggered twice on her way to the reception desk, Trifles always there to support her when she did. Of course she knew, she was in no shape to leave the hospital but she couldn’t stay either. She needed to get home and at the same time she couldn’t risk meeting Cullen when he was awake. Surely, she’d break, surely she’d give in and apologise and that would take them nowhere. She needed to get away so he could find a happiness that would last. She wished that he would find someone better, someone who could heal the wounds in his heart and chase away the nightmares. He needed someone who didn’t have blood on their hands, someone innocent and sweet and full of hope, not someone who was bitter and cynical, someone who had seen too much of the world’s darkest corners. The thought pained her, tore at her chest. She didn’t realise she was crying until an old lady in the hallway offered her a tissue.

Wordlessly she accepted it but the tears wouldn’t stop after she wiped them off her face. The lady at the reception desk took one look at her and called the doctor. It was the same doctor she’d met before, the woman’s expression stern and serious, as she tried to convince Avisignis to get back into bed.

“Andraste’s tits, just leave her in peace, if she wants to leave this place, let her leave. It’s not like you don’t have enough people to fill your beds.” A voice suddenly exclaimed and the familiarity of it had Avisignis’ heart beat faster. She whipped around, too fast it seemed as she swayed once more but this time a pair of strong hands caught her. Blue eyes met hers, amusement more than anything painted across the square jaw. A tattoo, like red paint smeared over a sharp nose and dark hair falling into a tanned face. Hawke looked tired too but the smile on her lips was wide and infectious and her hands held her securely.

The doctor protested but when Hawke casually mentioned that she was indeed the Champion of Kirkwall and that she’d submit a complaint if they would keep holding her friend hostage, the woman shut up. Her disapproving look followed Avisignis as Hawke helped her down the hallway and outside. Then, she fell into her friend’s arms, one hand coming around Hawke’s waist, the other still hidden under her shirt and pressed close to her body. “Hawke. Oh Maker, Hawke.” The woman laughed, her strong arms lifting Avisignis up like she weighed no more than a sack of feathers.

“I’ve missed you too. Have you gotten tinier? Almost dying doesn’t really suit you, you know. Maybe you should start thinking about a new hobby. ”

She laughed too, not because she felt like it but because Hawke’s laugh had always filled her with a strange sense of comfort and safety. “I’ll think about it. I can’t promise anything though.”

Hawke huffed out a breath. “Good enough for me.”

She didn’t say anything else, the rest of the conversation hanging unsaid between them. Avisignis didn’t ask why Hawke had shown up at the hospital at exactly the right time. Didn’t ask if she’d been there before, if she too had stood watch next to her comatose body. They didn’t talk but it was enough. It was enough to keep her on her legs until they’d reached Hawke’s car. One last time she glanced back at the hospital, wondering if she was truly doing the right thing in just disappearing like this.

I’m sorry, she thought, sending the words to Cullen who had been too kind to her, I wish you happiness.

 

They drove in silence, Avisignis dozing with her head against the window, her eyes barely seeing the trees that flew by. Only when the familiar shape of Skyhold appeared in front of them, she felt a sense of home invade her chest. She didn’t wait for Hawke to walk around the car to open her door, her feet unsteady at first. With Trifle on her left side and Hawke on her right, her friend’s arm around her middle to steady her, she hobbled up the stairs, feeling the nostalgia tug at her heart. She fumbled with her keys for a moment but when she pushed the door open the warmth embraced her and with the warmth a scent that reminded her of long nights spent in the kitchen writing, of breakfast with her children, of gentle kisses and whispered words falling into the arms of a man who’d brought light into the grey of her world.

Trifles barked happily, barging into the lobby, sniffing at the corners as though he had to make sure that everything was truly the same still. Dorian was the first one to join them in the lobby, crying out happily as he spotted the two of them in the door and before Avisignis had the time to brace herself, he flew into her arms. She caught him as best as she could, thankful for Hawke’s hand at her back that kept her steady enough to embrace the boy with her right arm. “I’m home.” She whispered into his hair, feeling his tears against the skin of her collarbone, as he pressed his face against her. “I’m home.” She kissed the top of his head and he squeaked, letting go of her for only a second, before hugging her again.

The noise had roused the rest of the kids and soon they were all gathered in the lobby, each of them crowding as close as possible to their mother. Avisignis found herself on the floor, her arm still wrapped around Dorian’s shoulders, as she kissed each of her children. She had to blink away the tears that threatened to fall, her heart aching from the joy of seeing them all unharmed and happy. Cassandra was the last one to join them, her eyes puffy and red from the crying. “I’m sorry.” She hiccupped. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault that you got hurt.” She hesitated but when Avisignis held out a hand towards her, the girl fell against her, her little arms around Avisignis’ neck.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart.” She reassured her weeping daughter, holding her as close as she could with her trembling arm. “None of it was your fault.” Cassandra looked up at her, her eyes filled with tears and disbelief but when the Dalish brushed her thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears.

“You won’t leave again.” Cole said finally, his voice dreamy and Avisignis wasn’t sure if it was an order or if he somehow knew it for certain.

She nodded, throwing a glance at Hawke who was still standing a few feet away with a wistful smile on her features. She looked back at her children, wondering how she had ever lived without them. “I won’t leave again. I promise.” She hoped it was a promise she wouldn’t break this time. There was no knowing what fate would throw her way in the future, what shadows would loom over her. There was still the Keeper, the Lavellan clan and they knew now that she wasn’t dead. There was the chance that Corypheus hadn’t been the only one to know about her, that he wouldn’t remain the only one to find her.

But she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Hawke helped her up and together they headed to the kitchen. Josephine insisted to make coffee for her, Cassandra and Solas practically forced her to sit down and the Iron Bull made sure that she wouldn’t get up for anything. They ate the sandwiches that Leliana and Josephine prepared, drank the slightly watery coffee and to Avisignis it was the most wonderful thing she’d ever tasted.

She didn’t think about anything else but this, the wonderful feeling of home and safety until the kids had gone to bed that evening, until Hawke and her were the only ones in the kitchen with the soft ticking of the clock in her back.

“He’s dead, right?” Hawke asked and Avisignis felt a shiver run down her spine.

 _“I was always looking for a way to become immortal, like the ancient elves were. To be a god even. And I found one, through you. As long as you live you will carry me with you.”_ Corypheus voice whispered in her head.

Avisignis nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s dead.”

 

Hawke left before midnight, saying that she needed to be back in Kirkwall in the morning. She promised to return in only a few days. “I have to park my new car here, after all you kind of ruined mine.” She said with a wink before she disappeared down the stairs and into the night. Left alone, Avisignis leant against the doorframe, her hand wandering to the pocket of her jeans. The silver was warm against her fingers and glinted in the dim light when she pulled the necklace out.

“I love you.” She said quietly to the ghost of the person she no longer had any right to call hers. Her lips brushed over the feather charm before she stepped back into the lobby and closed the door behind her.

 

Two days later she had the necklace fixed and wore it around her neck again.

 

It was a memory, something that reminded her of a time when she’d been happy. Of a life that she could’ve had had she been different. In another world maybe, in a kinder world it would represent a love that could heal their scars and make them whole again.

 


	26. Chapter Twenty-Four aka Lost

 

**Part Three**

 

 _All I want is nothing more_  
 _To hear you knocking at my door_  
 _'Cause if I could see your face once more_  
 _I could die a happy man I'm sure_  
  
_When you said your last goodbye_  
 _I died a little bit inside_  
 _I lay in tears in bed all night_  
 _Alone without you by my side_  
  
_But if you loved me_  
 _Why'd you leave me?_  
  
_Kodaline – All I want_

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Cullen woke to find the hospital bed empty.

For a second hot panic surged through his veins, his mind jumping to the most horrible conclusions. Her condition couldn’t have worsened, he’d noticed the doctors rushing in to take her away. She couldn’t have been transferred to another room, surely they would’ve woken him up for that. He reached out, clutching the crumpled sheets in his hands to find them still warm. His mind racing, he jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain in his back from sleeping in a strange position, as he rushed out of the room. He knew the hospital wing by heart, had paced these corridors too often in the last days to not know his way around. He knew where the vending machine was, where the nurses kept their coffee maker because they had taken pity on him after a while. He’d been grateful, since the stuff they sold to visitors and patients alike was terrible.

His feet carried him down the hall and to the reception desk, his hands trembling, as he held onto the counter in a desperate attempt to steady himself. “Avisignis Pentaghast. The woman in room B1…” The words rushed out of his mouth, his voice tight with fear because something had to have happened. Why else would she have just disappeared? It couldn’t have been Corypheus, right? The man was dead. Blackwall had confirmed it after the Guard had found the bodies in the building. It had been all over the news. And even a man as powerful and cruel as he couldn’t just come back from the dead. What if it was someone else, someone who harboured so much hatred against Avisignis that they would take her from her hospital room?

The woman looked at him and there was something in his eyes that was more pity than sympathy. “I’m afraid you just missed her, ser. She left maybe a minute ago with another woman.” Her finger came up to draw a line over the back of her nose. “Had a strange tattoo that one, I think the doctor called her the Champion or something. She didn’t sound like someone from Orlais.” Hawke. Cullen didn’t listen to her anymore, already turning and heading down the hallway to the exit.

He was running, running as fast as he could, without paying any mind to the people jumping out of his way. He pushed the doors open and skidded to a halt.

The parking lot was empty.

It took his brain a moment to register what it meant. It took him a moment to understand that she was truly gone. She’d left. On her own accord. His fists clenched and unclenched, his breathing was laboured. He stared, for hours it seemed, at the empty parking lot. The sun broke through the clouds above him, the snow almost blinding white and yet everything seemed strangely grey to him.

Of course she’d left, he thought, she wanted nothing to do with him after all. She’d told him as much clearly enough that she was tired of his broken promises, tired of his trying to fix things that he couldn’t. She didn’t want him around herself and her children because he could do nothing to protect them. Realising this felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He should’ve known. The thought was bitter in his mouth. It wasn’t her who had called him in the middle of the night asking for help, it had been Cassandra and probably only because his was the first number she’d found in her mother’s mobile.

Self-hatred like bile rose in his throat. Almost instinctively he reached for his coat pocket but it was empty. He seemed to be falling, falling endlessly into a void that stretched out to swallow him whole. He hurried back into the building, into the room but even there he didn’t find what he was looking for. The necklace was gone. It had probably fallen out of his pocket and he tears sting in his eyes because of course he’d lost it. He’d lost it just like he’d lost her. He cursed himself, cursed himself for not being able to do things right, for losing the one thing that had become the most important to him. “Fuck.” He breathed, his clenched fist slamming into the wall. Maker’s breath how could he have been so utterly daft? His knuckles burnt when he pulled his hand back again, letting it fall to his side because he knew that hitting immovable objects wouldn’t help him either.

There was nothing he could do now except accept it. And yet he didn’t see how he was supposed to do that, how he could just go back to his life as it was before he’d first visited Skyhold.

Cullen left the hospital with slumped shoulders because there was nothing left for him to do there. The woman at the reception desk looked at him with her wide, sad eyes and Cullen found himself wanting to scream. At least she was alive, he told himself, finding the smallest amount of comfort in the knowledge that Avisignis had been well enough to leave the hospital. She’d be safe, Hawke and Blackwall would keep her safe. They didn’t need him to slow them down, an ex-Templar, ex-soldier who was good for nothing but wallowing in his own self-pity.

He climbed into his car and he drove, drove without looking back. Haven was still buried under several layers of snow, the landscape hidden under a white blanket. It drowned out every sound, seemed to stifle the world around him. Routine alone allowed him to ascend the stairs to his apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside. The same, empty walls greeted him, the same hallway that looked neither welcoming nor homely. There were no pictures on the wall, as he’d never gotten around to put them up. There was one on the chest of drawers, his sisters and his brother smiling at him from inside the wooden frame. He passed it, not looking at the faces that were too happy for the aching hole in his chest. His bedroom was as bleak as the hall, the only pieces of furniture the bed and the overflowing bookshelves. For a second his gaze strayed to the script, the pages that without doubt Avisignis had hefted together herself before giving them to him as a gift that was as priceless as anything she’d done for him.

His hands moved on their own, picking it up and thumbing through the pages that he’d read too often already. His fingertip traced the signature on the first page, the curve of her ‘C’ and he remembered his surprise at finding out that she’d been one of his favourite authors all along. He remembered their first actual conversation, the way he’d passionately defended her book, a thought that had always made him smile because Maker only knows what she’d thought about him then. Probably something along the lines of ‘oh look, another crazy fan’. He placed the book back on the bed, withstanding his first instinct to throw it away because he’d pull it out of the trash again anyway. His hand lingered on the simple paper for a moment. He was still wondering what he could’ve done better, how he could’ve stopped this whole disaster before it ever happened. He didn’t find an answer to this question. With a sigh, he stripped and collapsed on the bed, burying his face in his pillow. Sleep. He needed sleep, though he had no hope that the world would look brighter when he woke up again.

 

It didn’t.

It wasn’t like he’d expected things to just go back to normal after everything that had happened and yet he wasn’t prepared for the ache that spread in his heart, whenever an unbidden memory slipped into his mind. He didn’t dare to walk to work because he passed the school Solas went to and he knew that he couldn’t bear seeing someone who was part of that wonderful family. As much as he threw himself into his work, spending every minute of his day at the office, he’d always end up with one of her books in his hands, wondering why it was only characters in stories that got their happy ending when the last page was turned. Everything seemed to remind him of her, the scent of coffee that had always lingered in her kitchen, the sound of the rain on the windows.

As much as he tried to keep his mind off things, his thoughts would always wander back, to the hospital, to the empty bed. He’d realised too late that he had fallen for her, he thought, had wasted too much of the precious time with her. He’d never felt like this before, never felt so alone even in the midst of a crowd. People always said that it was harder to fall out of love than to fall in love in the first place but months passed and Cullen still loved her. He wondered if he would ever stop, if he could even stop. She had stolen his heart and though she had had no desire to keep it, he hadn’t taken it back. He felt as though he’d left it, as melodramatic as that sounded even in his head, in that hospital bed.

Sometimes, when he wasn’t paying attention to what his feet were doing, they would carry him to the front door of his apartment like they expected him to go out. His hands would reach for his coat and keys before he could stop him. Two times he’d found himself subconsciously taking the street that lead to the mansion, only stopping and turning around when he saw the familiar shape of Skyhold against the grey sky. Once he’d almost left the car and walked up to the front door but he caught himself before he had gotten more than a few feet away from the car.

She didn’t want him around, he reminded himself. And he didn’t want to make her life even more complicated than it was. He truly, earnestly hoped that she would find happiness, that she would find a way to let go of past horrors now that Corypheus was gone. And if she thought that he didn’t belong there, then he wouldn’t attempt to force his way back into her life.

Once he’d thought he’d heard her voice out on the street. But when he’d turned on his heel, she’d already been gone. Leaving behind an emptiness that seemed to grow with every passing day instead of going away.

At some point he just gave up. He focused on his work, let his fingers wander over the covers of her books in quiet moments but he didn’t let his mind stray too far. He distracted himself, calling friends he hadn’t talked to in years, writing his sisters who always complained about his lack of correspondence anyway. He wasn’t happy but it worked.

When spring chased away the last remnants of winter, he dared to tell his older sister that he’d finally gotten over her. Though his heart still ached, the loneliness still crept into his chest when he returned to his cold apartment, the lie fell easily from his lips.

It wasn’t until a surprisingly warm Drakonis afternoon, the trees finally green once more, that all of his determination to get over the feelings still lingering in his heart, was torn to pieces. He was early from work, not in a hurry to get home and yet he had nowhere else to go that day. There wasn’t much that awaited him in his apartment, nothing but the Telly and the new book he’d found in the store just a few days ago. He automatically emptied the letterbox, sifting through the bills and colourful ads until a plain, white envelope fell into his hands.

For a second he hesitated, unable to explain the sudden excitement that crawled up his fingers. The paper felt strangely familiar. There was no name or address and when he turned around, he found himself looking at a seal that had been burnt into his mind long ago. His fingers trembled when he opened the letter, inhaling a sharp breath of surprise when he saw the familiar handwriting.

Before he could even read what it said, his eyes found the signature on the bottom of the page and his heart skipped a beat.

_Avisignis Pentaghast._


	27. Chapter Twenty-Five aka The Plan

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

“We have to do something!”

Her outburst was followed with surprised silence. It was downright scary, given the attic was only truly silent on rare occasions. And today, with the whole Inquisition, minus Commander and Inquisitor herself, gathered, the chargers sitting in a loose circle around one of the tables, Cole’s friend Maryden dangling her feet from one of the cardboard boxes and the young mage Skua, Cassandra had befriended in school, next to her on the bench, the wide room was particularly crowded.

Suddenly finding herself in the centre of attention, Cassandra found herself hesitating for a little moment, before she gathered her courage and stood up. “We have to do something.” She said again, her voice filled with a determination that the others had come to admire in their dragon slaying knight. She never really saw herself as the leader of the group but she tried her best to help decide what missions the Inquisition accepted. With Josephine’s political knowledge and Leliana’s habit of knowing just about anything and sometimes Solas’ council, they’d come up with solutions for more than just one crisis in their war torn Thedas. This time, she disregarded the map entirely, the mission she had in mind had nothing to do with saving the world and yet it was indefinitely more important than that.

Solas looked up from his book, the little flame he’d summoned on his fingertips flickering and going out, as he focused on what was going on in the middle of the room. Cassandra pushed her hands into her ribs. “You all know something is wrong with the Inquisitor. She hasn’t been the same since she returned from her fight with the dragon.” Because as much as Blackwall and Avisignis had insisted that it had been an accident and Cassandra had sworn not to tell anyone about what had really happened, they’d come up with a story of their own. The Inquisitor had gone to fight the dragon, the giant archdemon who had threatened to bring a new blight upon the world and throw the countries of Thedas into another devastating war. She’d succeeded, she’d saved the world from the bitter end it had been heading towards. Though the world itself knew little of it, the Inquisition made sure to spread the news now, while they attempted to figure out how to regain a peace and order that they all desperately needed.

Some of the other kids nodded, other mumbled their agreement. Cassandra smiled. “So, we have to do something about it.” That was as far as her plan went actually, she hadn’t really figured out what they would be able to do but that was what the Inquisition was for.

“But how?” Josephine asked after Cassandra had ended her short and more or less motivational speech. “What can we do to make her feel better?”

Solas closed his book with a loud thud and moved to join the inner circle. Of course he knew best how to solve problems, he was the oldest and the smartest of them after all and he’d studied very complicated math problems in school as well. Everyone watched him with an air of hope, as he brought his hand up to his chin in a gesture of thoughtfulness. “First we have to know why she’s unhappy.”

Dorian frowned. “Her arm hurts. She says it doesn’t hurt but I know for sure that it does. The dragon almost tore it off!”

That shocked them into silence once more, until Leliana stepped out from her position behind Josephine’s wheelchair. “I don’t think it’s her arm.”

Cassandra tilted her head. “What else can it be then? Aunt Hawke also seems very concerned about her. She’s always around checking on her. And she asked me to help Mummy with the chores because she can’t do all of them herself.”

No one really had an answer for that. Cassandra huffed out a breath of frustration. How would they be able to help their Inquisitor, if they couldn’t find out the reason for her being upset in the first place? And it was obvious that she was sad, no matter how much she smiled these days, there was always something else in her smile. Cassandra felt it weighing on her shoulders, found that he herself grew sad whenever she thought about the way, her mother’s hands would tremble around her coffee mug, the way her gaze would wander out of the window when she thought she was alone. She sighed, sometimes, her fingers playing with the necklace she was wearing, as though if she just touched it enough, it would take her away to a magical place where everything was happy.

“You don’t think, it’s because of us, do you?” Josephine finally asked and her bottom lip was quivering, the thought alone too frightening.

Dorian shook his head. “No. She loves us. She would never be unhappy because of us, we’ve been good, haven’t we?”

Cassandra thought the same. Josephine breathed in relief, the thoughtful expression returning to her face immediately. “But what else could it be?”

“Maybe she’s fighting with someone?” Skua asked, her low voice cutting through the heavy silence. “When my mama fights with my papa, she’s always sad too.”

That brought an idea to her mind but Cole said it, before she could: “She misses Daddy.”

Dorian opened his mouth to correct him. “He wasn’t our Daddy. He left and he never came back.”

“Then that is why she is sad.” Josephine connected the dots first. “He left and she misses him and she wants to see him again. That’s why she’s always looking out of the window and sighing so much. My teacher said that people who are in love do that too. And she loves him very much, she even kissed him on Satinalia.” She giggled at the thought. Cassandra felt her face growing hot. She didn’t like to talk about these kind of things, not that she thought them disgusting but it was embarrassing. Not that she herself had ever kissed someone, she hadn’t even thought about it… For some reason she couldn’t quite figure out, her eyes wandered to her mage friend, who was still watching them with her wide, purple eyes.

The Iron Bull interrupted her thoughts. “So why doesn’t she call him? If she misses him she can just tell him, and he’ll come over.”

Somehow the question _why_ Daddy left in the first place didn’t came up at all. Cassandra couldn’t help but wonder. What had happened, Cullen had been there at the hospital. He’d saved Mummy, had taken care of her. Had they had an argument? Maybe something had happened in the hospital that they didn’t know about and that was why the two of them didn’t meet anymore. In any case, it couldn’t stay that way, she decided. Avisignis had been so happy whenever Cullen had been around and she wanted to see her mother happy like this again. Even if it was a little bit embarrassing to see the two lovebirds together.

“Maybe it’s more complicated than that.” Leliana said. “Maybe she doesn’t know if he wants to see her.”

Dorian wanted to protest but Maryden shook her head. “It’s true, we’ve read a story like that in school. There was a warrior and her lover and they went to battle but they didn’t talk because the warrior didn’t think her lover wanted to talk to her and her lover, a beautiful bard, didn’t know if the warrior wanted to talk to her…” She hesitated but when everyone stared at her in expectation, she continued: “The warrior had to go to fight the blight because she was a grey warden and she died. They never saw each other again and the bard was sad for the rest of her life because she had never talked to the warrior again before she had gone away.”

That startled all of them enough to have Cassandra jump to her feet once more, while everyone else started talking at the same time. Cassandra cleared her throat loudly, something she had picked up from her old nursemaid long ago and everyone went quiet again. “I think we can all agree that we can’t let that happen, right?” That earned her a number of ‘yes’ and ‘of course not’. “So we have to make them talk somehow. I’m not sure how we could do that…”

Josephine clasped her hands, her expression suddenly one of glee and excitement. “We make them meet! In the court you always make people who need to talk meet, so you can have them discuss important things like treaties and trade agreements.”

The Iron Bull grinned. “We can abduct Cullen and drag him here.” The chargers agreed unanimously but Dorian elbowed him in the side, the frown on his face making it obvious just how dumb he thought the idea was. The Iron Bull shrugged, lips pulling into a little pout. “Okay, bad idea. But does anyone have a better one?”

They all thought about it for a moment. “We could ask Aunt Hawke…” Cassandra finally started, though she wasn’t very convinced of the idea either.

Solas raised an eyebrow. “How can we be sure that she won’t just tell Mummy what we’re planning? They’re good friends and she’s not loyal to the Inquisition.”

Josephine nodded. “Mummy cannot know about this in advance or she will just not go. So we have to get her to meet with Cullen but she can’t know that it is Cullen.”

That brought a smile to Leliana’s lips, her eyes lighting up with mischief. It was the expression the rest of the kids feared and respected because it meant that the girl was up to something and her plans were almost as ruthless as they were excellent. “We write letters. We send a letter from Cullen and we send one to Mummy, asking them to come to a place in the city to meet.”

Cassandra frowned, disappointed that _this_ was Leliana’s grand plan. “But they will know it is from us. It will never work this way…”

Leliana shook her head. “They will not know. I have seen Mummy’s letters, she has a very neat handwriting and I am sure I can copy it. I have copied our teacher’s handwriting before.” It was another one of her many talents that made her kind of scary in everyone’s eyes but at the same time invaluable to the Inquisition.

Josephine waved her hands excitedly. “Yes, yes. We send Cullen a letter with her handwriting and we can send her a letter that is from someone else. Remember, she got a letter last year before Cullen came, from the same place he works at.”

While Cassandra was still clueless as to what she was trying to get at, Solas seemed to catch her drift. A rare smile curled around his lips. “We have computers in school. I can use them to write a letter from child services and then send it to her. I just need to know the name of the person who wrote the other letter.”

“Leave that to me.” Leliana said confidently. “I will get the letter and the paper.

“What about us?” Cassandra asked, feeling like she’d pulled the short straw in this plan.

“You bring the letter to the post office after Solas has written it. She always sends you two to go to the store down the street. Dorian, Bull and Chargers you can bring the letter to Cullen’s house.” Josephine distributed the parts of their plan like she’d done it a million times before and in the end everyone had something to do.

Cole and Maryden would distract Mummy long enough for Leliana to sneak into her office. Leliana and Josephine would write the letter to Cullen, Solas would write the letter from the child services and him and Cassandra would bring it to the post office after school. Dorian, the Bull and the Chargers would deliver the second letter. And Sera, Sera would hopefully not devour all of the cookies before the mission was over. They all gathered around the war table once more, swearing complete and utter secrecy about their plans and all that before they all went their separate ways.

Operation Happier Times was underway.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Six aka Home

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

 

“I’m sorry for leaving I just didn’t know what to do.”

 

 

“Wednesday is still pancake day if you want to come over.”

 

 

“Can you come over?”

 

 

“Please, everything seems so empty without you.”

 

 

“I need you.”

 

 

“Come back.”

 

 

“I miss you.”

 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

 

“I love you.”

 

 

The list of messages that she typed out on her phone but never sent grew longer with every week that passed. So often had her finger hovered over the send button only to flinch away in the last second, that she’d banished the mobile into the top drawer of her desk, whenever she was at home. It’s for his best, she reminded herself whenever she was close to forgetting why she’d left in the first place. At least he was safe now and he would surely be able to find the happiness he deserved to have. If he was one of her characters, she’d make him fall in love with a beautiful and pure woman, someone who came along in the rain and slipped under his umbrella and then proceeded to steal his heart when she disappeared into the rain once more. She ignored the stab of jealousy that tore at her heart, whenever she thought about Cullen with someone else, trying to convince herself that it was better this way.

And yet it didn’t feel better. She’d always thought that those selfless and heroic things to do would make her feel relieved, accomplished even but all she felt was a lingering guilt and a desire to apologise. She wanted nothing more than to show up on his doorstep and ask him if he could forgive her, beg him to take her back even if there was still a chance that he could love her after everything she’d done. But that was the point, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t love her. Even though the monster had left, the scorched earth was still there. The piece that Corypheus had ripped out of her chest was still missing and she knew that she would never find it again. She’d never be able to give him everything a lover should give someone. With Corypheus voice still in her head, she couldn’t give herself to him whole. She’d always be scared.

Time passed, spring came and bathed the Dales in warmth, in colourful flowers and greener grass. The fresh breeze didn’t heal her wounds, didn’t soothe the ache in her heart. “It’ll go away.” Hawke had assured her but Avisignis wasn’t sure. She’d never noticed just how much she’d truly fallen for him, how much she loved him until he was no longer there. She longed for his touch, for his warmth, simply his presence was enough, his soothing voice in her ear. She’d let the Mabari sleep in her bed because he was the only one to save her from the nightmares now, the bad dreams that haunted her every night and that left her shivering, searching for something that proved that none of it was real. Even with Trifles there, though it still felt empty. The bed, the mansion. She reassured herself that the children were happy, that they were all well. Cassandra and the Bull graduated from elementary school and proceeded to join Solas at his middle school. Dorian had mastered the first grade of his magic tutoring, as the teacher had proudly announced just a few weeks ago. He’d been so proud and she’d felt guilty for not being more excited and happy about it.

Sera had graduated too, now insisting on eating out of her own plate with spoon and fork, drinking out of her own cup and learning how to use the toilet with a little bit of help. They were all growing up so fast, Avisignis thought, her heart warmed by the thought that they were truly enjoying their lives at Skyhold.

During the day she was too busy to think, focused on tending to her kids as well as they deserved. She loathed the thought of her own sadness weighing on their shoulders, knew that she could never forgive herself if they felt stifled because she had let her own chance for happiness slip through her fingers. But at night, when she was pouring over her stories, she couldn’t help but feel the loneliness, the silence of the mansion worming its way into her brain. She felt cold, even with the warm spring days chasing away the snow and ice. There was nothing that could really warm her. She longed for the fire Hawke had told her she’d been blessed with and that she never saw or felt within herself. Hawke was happy too, she’d settled in her estate, had even managed to convince Varric to let go of his lodgings at the Hanged Man in favour of moving in with her. Despite their differences and all the strange things that were going on in Kirkwall, it was obvious that the two had found their own kind of bliss.

“Don’t expect any wedding invitations though, I don’t think he’d go that far. Especially not after what happened with his ex-wife.” It was the one story Avisignis had never heard and Hawke refused to tell it. Not her story to tell, she’d said and Avisignis understood all too well what she meant. Gordon was still there, living in his house down the street and she felt guilty for leaning on him like she did. He supported her wherever he could but she knew that she shouldn’t. She loved him in her own way, he was more of a mentor than a friend and more of a friend than a lover. Before she’d met Cullen, she’d thought she could give him a second chance, try to make it work despite the past that loomed over them both like a thick, black cloud. Now they both knew that he’d be nothing but a replacement, something to fill the hole in her chest.

“Anything you need, I’m here for you.” He’d promised and there was no way not to realise just how much that offer implied but she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t use him like that. Not that she harboured the illusion that she was a good person, she wasn’t, it just wasn’t right. He meant too much to her and she doubted she could bear losing him too. She’d said as much and he’d hugged her, let her rest her head on his shoulder until her mind had calmed down enough for her to pick up Sera from the nursery school she’d been adamant about attending.

Things didn’t change much after that, her life had come to a strange point where things were just always the same. She woke up in the morning, got the kids to prepare for school. She made breakfast for the bunch of them, coffee for herself that she never got to drink before it was cold because there was always something she had to do before the kids left for school. She took Sera to the nursery school and headed back home. She took a walk with Trifles, walking through the forest and trying to keep her thoughts focused on grocery lists and everything that needed to be done throughout the day. She cleaned some, started preparing dinner, read some of her fan mail or the bills she had to pay. She picked up Sera once more and took her on another walk, watched the Mabari and the little girl play. Back home she finished whatever still had to be prepared for dinner and then the rest of the kids would start getting home. Sandwiches for the younger ones, who were usually home earlier, making sure they didn’t leave their hats and gloves lying around everywhere.

The kids told her all sorts of things over dinner, leaving her too busy to sift through the new information to think about anything else. The kids went to play in the attic and she pulled out her laptop, trying to work out how to start writing and maybe typing out a few paragraphs before the children tried to talk her into fulfilling her role as the inquisitor. They played for a bit and then headed back to the kitchen to eat supper. While they were working on their homework, she entertained Sera or tried to get some more writing done without having curious eyes glance over her shoulder. If there was still enough time before bedtime, they’d gather in front of the Telly until the younger kids were herded off to bed and the rest of them hid in the library. That was the time of the day she dreaded most, because suddenly she was alone, her story flowing off her fingers but her mind straying.

The routine was dull and yet comforting in a strange way.

 

The only days that were always slightly different and indefinitely more exhausting were the weekends. With the kids around all day, she tried her best to be everything they needed in a mother, taking them on trips when she could and making sure they spent some time together playing board games or going on missions for the Inquisition, whenever they insisted.

It was another one of those days, a Saturday and the warm sun filtered through the kitchen window. With the kids busy playing outside, she had finally found the time to read through some of the critiques she’d received for her latest book. It wasn’t until Cole and Maryden appeared in the kitchen that she looked up from her laptop and realised that it was almost noon already. “Are you hungry?” She asked but both of them shook their heads, Cole climbing into her lap like he hadn’t done it in a while. She enjoyed it, his small arms wrapping around her head and she hugged him in return with one arm, smiling at the little girl who was his best and only friend in school. She was cute, a little shy but had a singing voice that put most of the bards, Avisignis knew to shame. She’d practiced with Leliana once or twice and it was truly a sight or rather a sound to behold.

After a moment of silence, when neither Cole nor Maryden explained why they had shown up in the kitchen in the first place, Avisignis found her eyebrow twitching. Something was off, that was certain. It wasn’t anything bad, nothing wrong, she was certain she would’ve felt that. However she got the distinct feeling that the two of them were plotting something. Looking down, she brought a hand up to poke Cole’s nose. “So, what is going on? What are you planning now?” Cassandra was probably behind it, or Leliana, the two were absolutely devious in their desire to stir up trouble. Cole stuck out his tongue, shaking his head to indicate that he couldn’t or wouldn’t talk.

She glanced at Maryden but the girl only watched her shoes, humming as though she had absolutely no idea what Avisignis was talking about. Which, of course, made her only more suspicious. “Now if you don’t want to tell me, I’ll have to tickle it out of you.” She threatened. It earned her a squeak and before she knew it, Cole had untangled himself from her. The two were out of the door within seconds, leaving a confused Trifles behind, who lifted his head from his resting place under the table to eye Avisignis questioningly. She just shrugged. “I’m as much in the dark as you are.” She said and the dog huffed out a breath, shaking his huge head before going back to dozing until she’d take him for a walk later. The dog didn’t seem to miss the excitement of their nightly action and Avisignis envied him for being able to shrug it off that easily. At least he appeared as though he wasn’t troubled by any of it, sometimes she wondered if he too had nightmares sometimes. But just like the stories of his past, she’d never find out about it.

Avisignis didn’t find out what the kids had been up to, she forgot about it soon enough when she didn’t find frogs in the basement or kittens in the laundry room. The kids were strangely giggly though sharing looks over the dinner table that brought a smile to Avisignis lips. She still hadn’t gotten used to the family, still thought it was the most wonderful thing to have them all there with her. They all got along so well, sticking together like glue. She’d heard some of the other parents talk about the ‘Pentaghast gang’, apparently they were quite famous in their respective schools. She just hoped that no one bore any evil will against her children. She’d hate to have to show up in school again to threaten anyone into submission the way she’d had to do it with Josephine’s art teacher. That was a different story though and one she refused to admit as truth.

It was two days later that she found the letter in her letterbox and for a second, she felt her heart skip a beat. Child services. Cullen had promised that they wouldn’t be bothering her again after his last visit, hadn’t he? What reason did they have to write her? A strange, unrealistic hope invaded her chest, as she sliced open the letter. A hope that it was from Cullen, that he had found an excuse to write her after all. He hadn’t called, hadn’t texted her either and she’d figured that he’d realised how much better he was off without her. Maybe he’d finally figured out that she didn’t deserve him, that he didn’t want to love a murderer, a monster.

Still she had hoped and she cursed herself for it immediately, when she spotted the name at the bottom of the page. It was the same person who’d written her before, Cullen’s supervisor, she supposed. She skimmed the letter, a frown settling on her face. They wanted to meet her to talk about something important. The wording was strange and for a second she felt fear and suspicion boil up in her chest. A trap, Corypheus’ voice supplied but she tuned it out. Of course it wasn’t. Whatever it was they wanted to discuss with her probably had something to do with Cullen’s report. Maybe they had follow up questions or something. It wasn’t too unbelievable. She forced her paranoia to shut up and checked the date once more. They asked to meet tomorrow at four in one of the cafes on Haven’s main street. The frown knitting her brows together deepened. The kids were home already at that time, which meant she’d have to ask Gordon to have an eye on them while she was away.

With a sigh, she went to call the man, not surprised to find that he volunteered immediately. She tucked the letter away into the drawer. What her sharp eyes didn’t detect was the smudged fingerprint on the back of the envelope, where an ink stained hand had held it too tightly.

 

Tuesday came and she headed out. The kids had come to say her goodbye, all gathered in the entrance hall and for a second she wondered why they were all dressed like they were about to go out. Maybe Gordon promised them that they would take a walk or something or play in that little hut in the woods that he sometimes took them to. She stomped on the suspicion that still simmered at the back of the mind. She didn’t remember to take her umbrella until she was already in the car. For a second she thought about going back inside and grabbing it but then she decided against it. She was pressed on time anyway and she didn’t want to make a bad first impression by being late. It wasn’t raining yet but the skies were grey, heavy clouds looming overhead as she drove the car out of the driveway. She’d considered leaving Trifles with the kids for once but the Mabari had sat on her shoes until she’d grudgingly allowed him to come along. It wasn’t like all of town didn’t already know about the weird Dalish woman with her eight kids and her giant war dog anyway. Not much of a surprise there, she was probably the most discussed topic among the fine Orlais ladies that fancied their tea with a bit too much milk and their meat way too raw.

It started raining when she parked the car and without her umbrella, she hurried, her head tucked between her shoulders down the street. The café was just across when it started pouring and with nowhere else to go, she ducked under a large umbrella that walked in front of her. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled, glancing up and what she saw had her falter in her steps. Amber eyes met grey, the same surprise and downright shock in their depths. Her mind failed to supply her with thoughts, her mouth hanging open in a desperate attempt to grab the words that wouldn’t come. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think either. The only thing that she knew for certain was that a rush of joy filled her at the mere sight of him, a feeling like she’d come home after a long trip. Their shoulders brushed, as they both attempted to fit under the umbrella without getting wet and she could feel his warmth seeping through her skin even through the clothes.

“Cullen.” She said finally, her voice throaty as he scrambled to regain enough sense to figure out what to do with the situation. He seemed just as speechless as she was. His eyes flickered to her throat and it took her a second to figure out what he was looking at. The necklace, her fingers instinctively came up to brush over the feather charm. She was still wearing it, of course she was, she couldn’t let go of this one most precious memento she had of him and his presence.

“You sound surprised.” He finally rasped and she felt a shiver run down her spine at his voice. Too familiar, too far away, too long missed. “Didn’t you ask me to come?” His expression was guarded, a pain in his eyes that buried itself like a bullet in her heart.

It took a moment for his words to soak into her brain, then the frown returned. “I didn’t…” In a sudden moment of realisation, she closed her eyes and exhaled a breath. Now it all made sense: The giddy mood the kids had been in, the secret she hadn’t been able to figure out, why the letter sounded so strange… She sighed, not sure whether she wanted to laugh because she had been fooled so thoroughly or cry because the little ones were so thoughtful. “I’m afraid we’ve been set up.”

His expression darkened and she regretted the words immediately, automatically reaching out her good hand to touch his arm. She pulled it back immediately. This was wrong, she’d already decided that it was better for her to stay away from him, she wouldn’t let this ruin her determination. He was happy, she thought, without her. He didn’t look bad at all, didn’t look like he was missing her too much, the only obvious sign that he felt something the pain in his beautiful eyes.

“I should go.” She whispered, stepping out from under the umbrella and into the pouring rain. There were tears in her eyes, tears that she couldn’t stop from rolling down her cheeks. The rain washed them away. Trifles whined next to her, turning his head towards the figure under the umbrella and then back to her.

She didn’t get very far.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the umbrella fall, heard the footsteps behind her and before she could turn around, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, trapped her. Her heart pounded, her body was trembling as she felt him pressed against her. She didn’t move, didn’t dare to even breathe as he rested his head on her shoulder. “Don’t go.” A tight voice murmured and she shivered again, not from the cold but from the way the words sunk into her heart and made her whole in a way she’d never thought she could be.

They stayed like this for what could’ve been seconds or hours. At some point she found herself leaning into him, closing her eyes and inhaling the familiar scent that made her skin tingle. She didn’t want to go, of course she didn’t. There was nothing she’d rather do but stay like this forever. And yet she knew that if she didn’t leave right this second, she wouldn’t bring up the strength to go. All of her good intentions, all of the selflessness fell away, when he loosened his embrace and she turned around in his arms to face him. The look in his eyes, the longing in his features was enough to break whatever resolve she had.

Before she knew it, she’d flung her arm around his neck and pulled him in, their lips meeting in a kiss that tasted like rain and tears and longing. He melted into the kiss, his arms almost crushing her as he tried to pull her even closer. He kissed like a dying man, his lips soft and yet unrelenting, claiming hers in the sweetest of wars and she surrendered. The rain soaked their clothes and by the time they broke the kiss they were utterly drenched and yet neither of them cared. She felt his hands on her waist still, refusing to let go now after they’d been apart from each other for too long. Her fingertips traced his cheek, the line of the scar that had always fascinated her. He hummed, his eyes questioning, searching her face for an answer to all those questions that had to be asked, an answer she didn’t have.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she said, her hand still on his face and he understood.

Cullen bowed his head, his lips grazing her temple for a moment, before he took a step back. “I guess I can forget the umbrella.” His gaze swept over the street, unable to locate the umbrella he’d seconds – or had it been minutes – ago. There was a smile on his lips, an exhausted little smile that made her heart ache in just the right way. “But I was promised a coffee in your letter that you never sent…”

It was another question, one she gladly answered. “I don’t think it would hurt to warm up a little. I don’t think my children would forgive me if I caught a cold.”

She reached for his hand, his fingers hesitating for a second before they joined with hers and the simple familiarity of the feeling hit her like blow to the chest that took her breath away. Together they crossed the street. The people at the café eyed them, the waitress made a face at their wet clothes but she didn’t say a word, just led them to a table at the back of the little shop and disappeared once they both had ordered their coffee. Is it love, when you still know how the other person drink their coffee after months of not having seen them?

Sitting down, she didn’t know what to say. Avisignis couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to explain what she’d done, the reasons suddenly sounding so utterly irrelevant now that she was truly here with him. Cullen didn’t press her, his gaze wandering over her form like he wanted to commit every detail about her to memory in case she left again. The thought alone hurt. “I won’t leave.” She found herself saying before she could even think the words through. He raised his head, his mouth opening to say something and then he closed it again.

After a while he shook his head. “Your arm, is it better?”

She glanced down at the arm in question. Her hand still didn’t work, she could move it now but it always sent waves of pain through her body. The therapist had promised that it would get better with a lot of time and training, though she would never be able to use it the way she had before the bullet. “It’s alright. ‘Guess I’ll be having a hard time when anyone asks me to lend them a hand though.”

Cullen stared for a little moment, as though he couldn’t comprehend that she had just joked about something so serious. Then he broke into laughter, the melodic sound carrying through the room and making more than just one head turn. Trifles barked, pushing his nose into Cullen’s leg in an obvious gesture of ‘I missed you’. It made the man smile, a wonderful and warm smile as his hand reached for the dog’s head to scratch him behind his ears. Avisignis guessed that the Mabari had gotten used to Cullen being around, the two of them had gotten along well from the beginning. The dog had decided for her, making it very clear with a single look that he wouldn’t accept her leaving this man again.

A smile curled around her lips and she leant back in her seat. She was a little dizzy from the strange happiness that grew in her chest and for a second she thought that she could die a happy woman, when Cullen looked up at her again.

 

They talked for hours, talked about everything that was on their minds and Avisignis found herself apologising again and again until he simply reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles, effectively shutting her up. “I understand.” He told her and there was much more than simple forgiveness in these words. It was a promise, one her mind couldn’t comprehend until she was already back in his arms, soaking up his warmth and burying her head in the crook of his neck.

It was as though only then she realised that he was truly there. His hands ran over her back, comforting and reassuring at the same time. “Don’t leave me again.” She found herself muttering into his skin and he chuckled, his lips pressed to the top of her head.

“That’s my line.” She glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes until he was shaking with suppressed laughter. “I promise, I won’t ever leave you again if you’ll have me.”

Avisignis drew in a breath, her hand coming up to his cheek. “I will.” She whispered against his lips.

_If he was one of her characters, she’d make him fall in love with a beautiful and pure woman, someone who came along in the rain and slipped under his umbrella and then proceeded to steal his heart when she disappeared into the rain once more._

 

**The End?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!


	29. Epilogue

 

Epilogue

 

Things weren’t the same.

Something had changed, maybe it was just her imagination or maybe it was just them. They had changed, though she couldn’t tell if the events of the last months had made them stronger or just different. She thought about that sometimes and yet the idea didn’t bring her the same melancholic sadness she’d grown used to. Instead she found herself only a phone call away from the man she loved and this time there was nothing that would stop her from actually calling him. Not that she needed to, most of the times, he was at the mansion anyway. The kids had welcomed him back with enthusiasm and yet not as much surprise as one would’ve expected. Avisignis hadn’t asked them about the letters but she’d seen them exchange glances, giggles and when she’d turned her back to them, she’d heard the distinct sound of high-fives being exchanged. She’d treat them, she’d promised herself then, for their thoughtfulness and the almost flawless execution of their plan. As much as it had surprised her, she’d figured that her kids were just a bit _too_ smart, even for her.

It was warmer in Skyhold now, the warmth no longer exhaling a cold that chilled her to the core. It wasn’t perfect, she didn’t dare say that. Not when she still woke from the nightmares bathed in sweat, not when Corypheus’ voice still haunted her even when she was awake. But this time she wasn’t alone to fight it. When she woke up now, more often than not, she’d have hands on her shoulders, amber eyes that asked for permission before he hugged her and she hid her face in his shoulder until the fear had faded. He accompanied her to therapy, held her hand, whenever the tears of frustration started burning in her eyes because her hand just wouldn’t do what it was supposed to do. “Give it time.” The therapist said and when before Avisignis had only smiled bitterly, she now thought that she truly could wait. As long as Cullen was by her side, she didn’t mind waiting a bit for things to get better.

Sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, they’d snuggle up on the couch in the living room, both with cups of hot chocolate. With the Telly in the background and his hands softly running through her hair, she found herself relaxing more than she’d ever thought she could, her fingers growing wearier and wearier on the keyboard of her laptop until she gave up writing entirely and let herself sink into his embrace. They hadn’t gone beyond cuddling, beyond kisses and chaste touches yet and still it was perfect in a strange, almost surreal way. She wondered if she was glowing too, like Hawke had when they’d last met, whether her expression betrayed how happy she truly was.

 

Summer replaced spring, autumn followed after summer.

 

Cole had been the one to ask Cullen when he’d move in with them, earning him an awkward silence from his mother and surrogate father alike. Neither of them had an answer, the glance they exchanged questioning on both sides until Cullen had carefully asked if Cole _wanted_ him to move in. He’d asked her the same question that evening, his head on her lap as she was running her hands through his hair. Avisignis had hesitated to answer, not because she didn’t want him to move in but because she had been overwhelmed by the mere thought. “Yes.” She’d finally said, her voice no more than a whisper. “Yes I’d love for you to move in with us.”

And so he had. When the days started to get shorter, he’d moved his things into the room across the hall from the master bedroom. He didn’t use the bed.

 

Before she knew it she tasted the first snow in the air, the little flakes dancing around her form, as she wandered through the forest with Trifles at her side. Time passed so quickly now and the shadow of what had happened last winter grew more and more fade. It was the first day of snowfall and the first time she’d woken up from a deep, dreamless sleep to find herself alone in her bed. She’d enjoyed the feeling, the lack of dread and pain. She’d raised her left eye up to her face, her eyes tracing the thick scar on her arm. It was the only proof that everything had truly happened, she thought and when she closed her eyes it wasn’t Corypheus’ face that appeared in her mind.

The cool air played with her hair, brushed the strands into her face whenever she tried to tuck them behind her ears again. Trifles was enjoying himself in the snow, rolling around in the wet cold as though there was nothing better in this world. His tongue lolling out, he glanced at her every now and then, as though to check if she was still there. “I won’t leave.” She’d promised Cullen and yet she still felt that everyone was scared she would do just that. That she’d spread her wings and fly away from this place to never be seen again. When she’d been young, she’d always wanted to be free like that, free to go wherever she wanted. Now she was chained to this place, the love in her heart like shackles that tied her to the ground. But it wasn’t a bad thing. She had no desire to leave, felt no need to fly away because this place was home, the home she’s always dreamt of. Here she was happy, with her family and this man with his beautiful amber eyes.

With Cullen still at work and the kids at Gordon’s, she was in no hurry to get home, enjoying the clear winter air that filled her lungs and the last colourful leaves that were braided into the wood’s hair. She took the long way, past the little cabin that the kids had declared an outpost of the Inquisition. “There were bandits!” Cassandra had explained with perfect seriousness. “We chased them out and claimed the fortress in the name of the Inquisitor.” A noble cause, Avisignis had told her. As long as their game was about helping people and saving the world there was no harm in letting them play, she was certain, though she had gotten several odd looks at Cassandra’s new school. One of the teacher had carefully asked her what exactly she told the kids when they were at home because she couldn’t believe that they’d come up with something quite like this on their own. Of course, she could only admit that it hadn’t been her idea at all, she’d simply supplied the foundation, as she’d realised when her book about the Inquisition of old had disappeared from her shelf.

She chuckled when she saw the flag Josephine had painted for the outpost blowing in the wind. Leaving the cabin behind her, her eyes found the silhouette of Skyhold again, the very familiar towers and walls gleaming white in the fading sunlight. She found herself unable to look away, drawn in by the simple beauty of the mansion that she’d never quite noticed when she’d started living there. It wasn’t as pompous as one expected, hence only the summer house for a family as prestigious as the Pentaghasts. It looked more homely now, with the ivy climbing its walls and the colourful dots in the windows of things the children had made. Little paper stars and flowers and several other things that Solas had claimed were protection runes he’d learnt in his ancient elven class.

For a second she wondered, when she saw light behind one of the windows. Had she not turned it off? A sliver of fear crept down her spine but she succeeded in pushing it down again when she reminded herself that she was safe. Nothing had happened in the last months, Corypheus was dead in all but her mind. She probably just forgot to switch it off. The more she buried herself in the safety and warmth that the mansion now truly offered her, the more simple things slipped her mind. The door in the basement was still locked, the weapons still there but she didn’t touch them anymore. They were a last safeguard, remaining in case of an emergency that would hopefully never happen. There was no gun in the kitchen anymore, no knife in her bedroom either. The door was only locked once and there was a key under the flowerpot in the backyard in case one of them happened to lock themselves out.

Most importantly, she didn’t flinch anymore when the doorbell rung, didn’t jump to her feet when she heard steps in the hallway. She could relax now, listening to Trifle’s excited barking whenever someone new came to visit. The neighbour’s daughter came by every now and then, a sweet and slightly weird girl who seemed to have a million cats and was obsessed with unicorns. The kids loved her, Trifles not so much but she always brought delicious cake over so Avisignis couldn’t really say anything against her stopping by the mansion every now and then. She’d invited Hawke and the Kirkwall gang over for Satinalia this year and though the woman hadn’t been able to promise anything, she’d said that she’d love to come. It was a nice thought, having everyone gathered again, old friends and new friends alike. There were still a lot of empty rooms that could use some life.

Her hand had barely touched the door handle, when it swung open. She winced, taking a step backwards but immediately relaxing, once she saw the familiar figure in the doorway.

Cullen smiled, though there was something slightly nervous, in the way he opened the door for her and beckoned her inside. Her eyebrow arched when he didn’t tell her what was wrong. “Welcome home.” He mumbled, his hands coming up to cradle her face as he pulled her into a gentle kiss that lingered just for a moment. Humming, Avisignis leant in, drawing it out until Trifles pushed against her knees because she was blocking the door.

“Alright, alright, dog.” She moved, her eyebrow inching even higher when Cullen hurried to help her out of her coat and scarf. “I thought you were still at work?” Suspicious, she eyed her lover, wondering what exactly was going on but Cullen only offered a little shrug as an explanation she trusted him enough to not pester him about it. They were halfway in the kitchen already, when the soft music from the radio reached her ears. Deciding to ask him after all, she opened her mouth but he chose that exact moment to push open the door to the kitchen and the words remained stuck in her throat. The warm candlelight poured into the hall, the music louder but only so much that they could still talk without feeling disturbed by it.

Her gaze wandered to the table that had been set for two, the delicious scent of whatever was cooking on the stove reminding her just how hungry she was after not having eaten anything since breakfast. “What is this?” She asked, her voice low.

“A date?” He asked more than stated, the nervous smile still in place and when she didn’t say anything in return, he shrugged. “I figured we never had a real date, and fleeing into a café after almost drowning in the rain surely doesn’t count, so I thought- well candle light dinner and all. It’s supposed to be romantic.”

Avisignis chuckled, unable to stay strong when he was being so adorable. “It’s very romantic. I love it.” She assured him, pulling him in to peck the corner of his mouth before she sauntered over to the second chair. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s for dinner before I starve to death?”

Cullen grinned, obviously relieved and hurried over to the stove. “I actually wanted to do something fancy and complicated but I’m really no good at that and since your favourite dish is pasta carbonara, I just went with that.” He admitted.

“That sounds absolutely amazing.” He piled pasta on both their plates. “And it smells great too. So do we have to do anything else or do we just eat?” If she was honest, she’d never been on a real date before. Of course she knew the basics of a candle light dinner though, she was a writer of erotic novels, there was no way around romantic dinners and declarations of love in her genre. She just liked to see him squirm a bit.

He sat down across from her, pouring the both of them a glass of red wine before leaning back in his chair. “Well, there’s usually a lot of talking and adoringly staring into each other’s eyes but I guess we can skip that part before the food gets cold.”

“Aww and here I’d hoped I’d get the chance to stare longingly into your eyes.” She joked, reaching out a hand to brush it over his. “But I’m totally alright with food first. After all we wouldn’t want to waste all the effort you put into this.”

Cullen shook his head, laughing quietly. “You’re incredible.”

“I aim to please.”

They ate in comfortable silence. Avisignis only looked up after a while to find that Trifles wasn’t lying under the table like he usually did. Raising an eyebrow at Cullen, the man tilted his head, a slightly sheepish look settling on his features for a moment. “I left food for him in the living room.”

“Smart.” She admitted, wondering just how long he had planned all of this, if he’d actually considered how to distract the Mabari.

Once they had both finished, she leant back in her chair, placing both hands on her stomach. “I’m full. That was the best spaghetti carbonara I’ve ever eaten, you should cook for me more often.” Cullen nodded, the nervousness returning to his features but before Avisignis could ask what was wrong, he stood up again to carry their plates over to the sink.

“Cullen?”

He turned around to face her, the nervous smile once again playing on his lips as he crossed the distance between them. Only a few feet away from her, she reached out a hand to take his but he hesitated. “Well, I wanted to make dessert too but I kind of screwed up and then you were home already and the pudding had no time to cool, so…” He cleared his throat, reaching for something in his pocket. Her hand fell back onto the table, eyes glued to the little box he pulled out before it flickered back up to his face. “I ah, I wasn’t really sure how to ask this but the woman in the shop said to just go for it and Dorian insisted that you don’t like grand gestures or anything.” He shook his head, obviously realising that he was rambling and when he looked at her, his eyes were so full of hope and love that her breath caught in her chest.

“Marry me.”

For a second she couldn’t find the breath to say anything, her eyes once more trailing down his arm and to the box he’d opened, revealing the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. It was silver, leaves and vines curling around its curve, only interrupted by the little stones that sparkled in the light of the candles. In what had to be the most clichéd reaction, she reached up to cover her mouth, trying her best to force down the tears that tried to escape her eyes, as she nodded. “Of course. Of course I’ll marry you! Oh Maker Cullen-“

She didn’t get out the rest of the sentence, too caught by the sight of the ring that he pulled out of its soft bed. She didn’t realise her hand was trembling until he gently picked it up to slip the ring on her finger. She found herself astonished by how well it fit.

Avisignis still couldn’t find any words to describe what she felt, the surge of happiness, the warmth that spread through her chest, the joy, the love. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek but before Cullen could give voice to the sudden fear in his eyes, she hauled him in and kissed him. She tried to pour everything into this touch of lips, everything that she was feeling, everything that she wanted to say but couldn’t because she didn’t know _how._ The kiss left them breathless, his hands splayed over her cheeks and his eyes were wide with wonder as though he couldn’t quite believe that all of this was really happening. Well, that was two of them then.

Her hands found their way to his shoulders, trailing down his arms and she marvelled at how the fingers of her left hand curled into the fabric of his shirt. They still didn’t work the way they were supposed to but it had gotten a lot better. Though she wasn’t able to hold things for very long without dropping it, they at least didn’t hang dead by her side anymore. Cullen followed her gaze, picking up her hand and bringing it to his lips. He kissed each of her fingers and then her wrist, letting his lips linger there where her erratic pulse betrayed the maelstrom of emotions in her head. She shivered, not because of the cold but because of the way his eyes locked with hers. There was something in those amber depth that drew her in, had her lick her tingling lips that longed to taste his again. Cullen hummed, closing the distance between them once more. Their tongues joined in a dance that made her mind spin and her heart hammer in her chest.

His hands trailed down her sides, coming to rest at her waist, as he pulled her up and out of the chair until she was pressed flush against him. Heat soaked her, his chest against hers and their lips locked as he embraced her fully. Avisignis’ hands found his shoulders, brushing over the clothed skin and she ached to feel more. One of his hands came to rest just above the curve of her arse, lingering there. Her hands inched down his back, exploring the muscular plains. They broke the kiss, filling their lungs with sorely needed air. “The kids.” She mumbled. “They could be home any minute…”

Cullen shook his head, his eyes like molten gold when he tucked a strand of hair that had fallen into her face back behind her ear. “Blackwall said he’d let them stay overnight.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, her voice low, when she asked: “So you planned this too?”

An honest-to-maker blush crept onto his face and his fingers curled around her waist. “I’d be fine with breaking out the champagne and celebrating on the couch too.”

She cut him off before he could say anything else, tiptoeing to smash their lips together. Her skin felt hot, almost feverish as they traded kisses that were filled with passion and longing, a longing to be closer. His eyes were dark when they broke off and his fingers played with the hem of her shirt, just barely brushing over her skin. “We should head upstairs.” She suggested, remembering far too well that he had no intention of doing this on the kitchen table, as sturdy as it might be.

Avisignis expected him to agree, what she didn’t expect was him to reach down to her knees and pick her up, carrying her bridal style out of the kitchen and down the hallway. At her surprised expression, he smiled. “I have to practice, don’t I? Hawke would murder me if I dropped you on your wedding day.” She swatted at his arm in turn, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbled up in her chest as she imagined Hawke being outraged over something that happened at their wedding.

Their wedding. It was a strange thing to think about. As wonderful as it sounded, she had no idea what to think, what to expect. The only married people she knew had been the Pentaghasts and they’d just seemed like they’d always been together. So naturally around each other, so comfortable. Apparently noticing her strange expression, Cullen bent his head until she could kiss him again. Her arms snuck around his neck, playing with the tips of his soft hair. She would think about it later, she promised herself, not wanting to ruin this by letting her mind wander too far.

She didn’t have to worry about that, her mind immediately blank when he lowered her on the mattress and crawled on top of her. His breath ghosted over her neck before his lips came to rest on her collarbone. He whispered her name into her skin, the word alone enough to bring the entire world crashing down around her. His fingers were on her sides, only brushing over the skin bared between her shirt and her trousers.

She reached for him, her hands trailing over his chest, his back, everything that she could reach with his lips scorching a path into the skin of her neck. “I love you.” He breathed into her and she shuddered, tugging at his shirt in an attempt to get it off, to feel his skin under her fingers. He pulled back long enough to rid himself of the unnecessary fabric. She steadied herself on the elbow of her right arm to mirror him, throwing her own shirt over the side of the bed. He sucked in a breath, his eyes wandering down her form and she found herself smiling. She’d never thought of herself as particularly beautiful but under his gentle hands she felt as though she had to be the most beautiful woman on this earth. His touch was gentle, careful as though he was afraid she might break. He traced her sides, his lips coming down to taste the bared skin until they brushed along the edge of her bra.

Cullen hesitated there, his eyes searching hers as though he was asking for permission and she nodded, his name a whisper on her lips, as he unhooked her bra. He hummed in approval, cupping her breasts in his hands, softly caressing the smooth skin. A breathy moan fell from her mouth as he bowed his head to kiss her breast. His lips found her nipple, tongue flicking against the hardening nub and she arched her back, her body melting into the touch. Her hands found his back again, exploring the skin she could finally touch. Her body shivered, as he moved to pay the other breast the same attention, his hands slowly wandering lower, over her stomach and to the waistband of her trousers.

Her hands trailed over his chest, feeling the muscles shift under her fingers. When she fumbled with his belt, though he pulled back. His eyes were dark, the pupils almost swallowing the gold of his irises as he reached for her hands only to push them into the mattress. “Let me.” He asked, his voice rough, the sound alone sending shivers of lust down her spine. But there was something else in his expression, love and an intense wonder and it stilled her hands.

Satisfied that she would let him worship her body like he wanted to, he let go of her hands and went back to exploring every bit of bared skin. His lips followed the trail of his hands down her stomach. His fingers made quick work of her comfortable trousers. They brushed over the insides of her thighs, his lips scattering kisses across her hip that made her shiver with need. She wasn’t sure at what point her brain decided to shut down completely, the sounds falling from her lips a mixture of moans and gasps. It was probably when his knuckles brushed over her panties, pressing into her through the fabric. "Cullen…” She begged, her voice broken and it brought a smile to his lips that was pure mischief, as he pulled her underwear out of the way.

Avisignis inhaled a sharp breath when his mouth descended on her, his tongue dipping between her folds. His hands were gentle and yet strong on her legs as he pushed them apart to give himself more room to explore. Fingers gripping the sheets tightly, she arched into the touch, trying to bring her closer to her hot centre. He complied, tongue flicking over her clit and it tore a low moan from her lips, as he pushed one finger into her. She pushed her head back into the pillow, trying to make sense of things but unable to come up with a coherent string of thoughts. He was there and it was good, so good and yet not enough. She wanted more, wanted him, entirely and completely. Every lick of his tongue raised her higher, twisted her stomach in just the right ways. Her mouth was dry, when she tried to say his name. His eyes locked with hers when he pushed in a second finger and she gasped, unable to look away.

He sucked, his fingers crooked just at the right angle to rub at her insides, bringing her even higher in her pleasure, high enough to find herself nearing the edge. “Cullen…” She chanted his name, her hands tugging at the sheets in a desperate attempt to hold onto them. A flash of pain shot through her right arm but she barely realised it. “Cullen…”

She broke under the ministrations of his fingers and tongue, came apart before she knew it. Her climax shook her entire body, had her legs tremble and her back arch as she breathed his name once more.

Cullen stroked her through it, causing her body to quiver with aftershocks until she had to tug at his hair to stop him, unable to take any more. She pulled him up and he followed, his tongue flicking over his lips as though to chase her taste. She groaned, his fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck as she forced him down into another kiss. She tasted salt, tasted herself on his lips.

His hands raked through her hair, as he drew the kiss out, a slow and yet passionate dance that suited the way his fingers brushed over her skin. Avisignis’ tugged at his trousers, wordlessly asking him to take them off because she was too far gone to figure out how his belt worked. He complied, pulling both trousers and boxers out of the way. Maker, he was beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful. Unconsciously she licked her lips, as she unabashedly ogled him. His breath shuddered past his lips when she reached down, trailing her fingers down his narrow hips. Her touch ghosting over his hard length made him shiver and bury his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot on her skin. Her body reacted to his, pressing herself closer. He bucked his hips when she started stroking him, his body tense as his tongue flicked over the side of her neck.

“Avisignis.” He breathed and her hand faltered, when he cupped her face to kiss her again, desperate and yet no more demanding than before.

“I want you.” She mumbled against his lips, the words vibrating through her body.

Cullen groaned, his teeth grazing over her bottom lip. “Are you sure?” It was the first time someone had asked her that, the first time someone had been concerned about her complete and utter consent and it turned her insides to mush.

Her lips spread into a smile that probably looked absolutely crazy because the affection that rushed through her was just too much to contain and it seemed to be oozing out of her every pore. “Yes! Oh Cullen, yes. I want all of you!”

“Maker’s breath, woman, you’re too much.” He rasped, his hands trailing down her sides and to her legs, as he shifted, raising her up the tiniest bit. Avisignis wrapped her legs around him, giving him the most encouraging smile she could muster. He locked eyes with her when he pushed inside, spreading her in the most delicious way. Her mouth opened, she gasped, throwing her head back. He waited, gave her the time to adjust, his fingers running over her stomach and her breasts until her body was quivering beneath him.

“Please.” She breathed. He didn’t let her wait, didn’t tease her. His lips finding hers again, he started moving.

It was nothing like the quick shags with the sisters at the clan, nothing like the one-night stands or flings she’d had after she moved into Skyhold. Never had someone been so gentle, so careful with her, had treasured her body and her trust this much. She found herself drifting, losing herself entirely in the pleasure that uncoiled in her stomach, the heat that flooded her system. His hands found hers, fingers lacing together as she met his thrusts with her hips. They were in no hurry, taking it slow, revelling in the way their bodies fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. She swallowed his moans with her kisses, his tongue coaxing hers into a dance that only stroked the fire in her insides.

Cullen slipped a hand between their bodies, his fingers seeking out the same hidden pearl he’d tasted earlier. Her body shook in time with his thrusts, her legs tightening their hold around his waist. They fell together, holding each other tight as pleasure ripped through them. Avisignis felt him, deep inside, deeper even than he’d reached. It was as though she was filled entirely. His fingers had burnt her skin, had taken her apart and then put her back together. New, better, different.

 

Maybe they were really stronger, she thought, when they were lying next to each other, legs tangled together and hands joined. His fingertips played with the ring on her finger, tracing its edges like he was trying to ensure that it really fit. It looked right on her, like it was meant to be there. His brilliant eyes caught hers, when she looked up again and there was something in their depth that she couldn’t decipher. She didn’t put too much thought into it.

After all she had all the time in the world to figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I love those endings that are just so sweet you'll get cavity.
> 
> Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who read this story and I very much hope you enjoyed it! I already promised a friend that I would write at least one sequel so you might want to keep an eye on this series.  
> Also I promise that at some point I will go through the whole thing again to weed out all those embarrassing typos!


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